Political Constraints & Chemical Floods
by SirNi
Summary: Scorpius wants revenge, gets sex and violence. Jothee wants resolution, gets surprises and encounters.  Unfinished, alas.
1. Author's Note

Political Constraints & Chemical Floods

Dedicated to Led, who threatened Grubb with playful, softcore BDSM.

Author's Note

Before I post, it's time for a little explanation.

I had pretty much the biggest crisis in my life to date last year, starting, as well as I can figure, on March 20, 2009. Battlestar Galactica 2K3's finale broke me, and I'm still hurting. Like any battle scar, it won't ever fully heal.

I began this fanfic because Scorpius is cool, and he needed a little kink in his life. I was too lazy to start an original book (yes, lazy, no matter what I said at the time) and I have learned better since. I will never stop writing original fiction until, like Robert Jordan said, the day I die. Maybe you can write original fiction in the grave. That would be cool.

Like the other entries on this site, I have a pretty distinct habit of beginning and not ending fanfiction. That's because, when I get an idea in my mind for something original, the fanfiction doesn't have the same appeal.

Now I have more ideas for original fiction than ever before, and I hope to Hell they never stop coming. I will pursue them with manic-depressive intensity, there is no doubt about that.

So, if you like this fanfiction, watch this space. God willing, I'll write a lot more things like it.

SirNi Green Valley July 19, 2009


	2. Chapter 1

**Political Constraints and Chemical Floods**

Chapter 1

SirNi

His nemesis had leapt into the bullet's trajectory. John Crichton had summoned a wormhole weapon, the object that Scorpius had sought after for more years than he could count. It had been his dream ever since he had seen the scientific theories, and had suspected that such a thing could be achieved. He had never suspected the horror it had shown him and the galaxy.

The wormhole weapon had frightened the Peacekeepers, by bounds the strongest faction of the Sebacean species, and the Scarrens, the strongest and most monstrous of all the species in the known galaxy. They had created a peace after their war, the title both ironic and showing that, indeed, the Scarrens had come out ahead once again.

But Scorpius knew that there was a limit to the weapons of destruction, and some things must never be unleashed ever again. Crichton had used the knowledge implanted in his mind and designed the horror, and the weapon was known, for all time, as Crichton's Wormhole. The weapon had been on the very edge of his own name.

Atoning, Scorpius had created a starship, the Iresa, and sent it into a region of space he had never before seen. Perhaps he could find his answers there. Perhaps he might never find them. But he had to try. He had a deep empty place in his soul, and had to fill it with a new goal. More than anything, the Iresa served as that for the moment, and the repairs harshly scratched his soul.

The woman didn't help, either. Scorpius cursed in the language of the Scarrens and flung a wrench at her above his head. The woman, as always, caught it.

"Let me be," Scorpius said. "Get away from me, traitor."

Sikozu didn't answer him. She never did. She waited behind him, arrogant and certain that he could understand her betrayal. But he didn't, and he couldn't. She had joined the Scarrens, a stain on her otherwise wonderful personality. There were lines that a person should not cross.

Scorpius crawled further into the tunnel and darted his light back and forth. The bilge tubes, not for the first time, had been acting up, and the smell had made him mad. Were the smell not so intense and overwhelming, he could have appreciated the heat, and the pleasing discomfort it washed across his body.

However, the smell was horrible, and he found himself barely able to keep from gagging. Sikozu held a filtration mask in her hands, and wore another, but he vowed not to show any weakness. He could not allow the woman even a small victory. The leather mask he wore rubbed harshly against his strong but parched features.

He wriggled further onward, surprised that he could go on. The entire world was heat and leather and a miserable smell. He breathed through his nostrils as much as he could, and, at last, toppled into the bilge pit.

Sikozu waited within the tunnel, holding the mask. Usually she whirled it around, playing with him, but she realised that he was not feeling at all up to his usual. Scorpius chanced a peek at her and felt a surge of conflict at the betrayal she had set on him. She was beautiful, and sadistic.

Sikozu's new outfit, after the Peacekeeper war, combined both the warrior approach she had used for them, and the outfit she had used when he had at first met her. He found himself impressed that he couldn't quite analyze hat the materials and construction represented. Obviously, she was different, but he couldn't tell what the precise difference said about the woman's personality.

Her crimped hair was a contradiction, because it was short and shadowed her face. The woman wore a tight-fitting rubber corset. With long sleeves and a tall neck, it was mostly black and opaque. Eight horizontal lines of bright red sliced through the outfit, pressed a little within it, creating a mysterious effect that he ignored. She wore rubber gloves, and military boots.

He forced sexual thoughts from his mind, and continued with his work. The woman stood at the top where he had left, waiting patiently.

Scorpius sloshed further into the pit of bilge, panting at the heat and the stench. It yanked at his legs with every step, forcing a long march to his destination, on the opposite side of the pit. He held both of his hand out wide, barely holding on to his balance, and finally reached the machine.

He groped at his belt to reach the wrench, found it, and worked on shoving aside the steel panel which could show him what he required. It fell off, toppled into the pit, but Scorpius kept his mind off it. At some point, the panel should be replaced, but he didn't want to think about immersing himself. The smell, as horrible as anything he had ever smelled, became overwhelming, and he puked.

"Think you want the mask?" Sikozu asked.

Scorpius didn't turn around. He spun the gear and slowly forced it to the working position. Anything involving sheer muscle power represented a challenge and he held down his Scarren side. His Sebacean muscles had to do every part of the work. The monsters could not win, even in the slightest.

"Sir," said the communicator on his wrist.

Scorpius roared at the disruption of his concentration. He saw nothing but the warm signatures of the waste beneath him and the cold metal of the starship. The muscles of his arms lashed out and spun the gear into its original position. Scorpius peered at it, angry at his inability to keep his emotions controlled.

He sighed, breathing deeply.

"Yes, Iresa," Scorpius said. "What do you wish to tell me?"

"You set my pathfinding into autopilot," Iresa, the Leviathan mind connected to his starship, replied. The mind had not came easily, and the story had been exciting, but he had told her that she could go back when he was done with her.

"Yes? What about it?"

Iresa replied with a sigh. "Do you know where we are, Scorpius?"

"I'm afraid I don't," Scorpius said.

"We're in the Fifth Sector," Iresa said.

Scorpius knew many things, but he had learned that the galaxy could always present something new, no matter how much you had thought you knew. "What's the Fifth Sector?"

"When can you arrive on the bridge?" Iresa said.

"I'm almost finished with the repairs down here," Scorpius said.

"Good," Iresa said.

Scorpius breathed deeply, shoved himself into the pit, and roamed around to locate the panel. He got up again, waste smeared on him, and replaced the panel above the gear. He frowned at Sikozu, with enough anger that she realised what was on his mind. She crawled backward from the room.

Scorpius spit the waste onto his hand. He peered at it, and realised the feces had not been from a creature he had ever met. He tossed the feces back into the bilge and lifted his wrist.

"I might be a bit," Scorpius said. "I need to wash."

"Since when are you ever crazy about cleanliness?"

Scorpius pondered an answer, but simply sloshed back through the bilge.

Within the shower, Scorpius realised that he had been thinking of Sikozu and worked to keep the thoughts from consuming him. Though passionate at times, they had had a calm love, between people of equal intellect and treachery. Roasting temperatures presented the strongest passion between them, and they often had difficulty keeping themselves controlled within the shower.

Scorpius found it amusing, and wanted to forget it. When he entered the command, with a fresh coolant rod and a scowl, Sikozu crept away from him. The rubber outfit appeared dazzling from the lights on the primary window, and he wondered why emotions he had long ago forgotten were coming again to his mind.

"Tell me about this sector," Scorpius said. "Do you have a starchart?"

"Yes, but it isn't complete and is out of date," Iresa said.

Scorpius crossed his arms. "Tell me what you know. Then set it on screen."

"A conflict has raged on this sector perhaps twenty years. It's been covert, mostly, the news seems to say, and I can only find traces of information. On one side, there's a Sebacean police captain, and the other a criminal syndicate. Neither has achieved progress above the other, and they keep going back and forth," Iresa said.

Scorpius was hardly interested. "Why should I know about this?"

"These people have a war on their hands," Iresa said. "We're in the center of it. Each side perhaps controls a hundred capitol ships and ten planets."

"That's a decent scale," Scorpius said. "Do they want to win above the other? They don't have another goal?"

"I think that's the goal," Iresa said. "That isn't why you're interested."

"There aren't Scarrens here?" Scorpius said.

Iresa made a soft hmpfing noise. "They aren't, sir."

"They aren't chasing us?" Scorpius said.

"No traces of hostile ships."

Scorpius spun around and began walking. "Then continue your flight, Iresa. Don't contact me before you locate some interesting thing. You know what appeals to me. I programmed my goals into your circuits."

"The war is covert," Sikozu said.

Scorpius hesitated.

"It's covert. It's a war waiting for another power," Sikozu said.

Scorpius hissed. "You're suggesting that I play a part in their struggles?"

"Yes," Sikozu said. "You need a distraction, something to get your mind off your problems."

"And you need to prove yourself," Scorpius said.

"I am already confident," Sikozu said, and he felt warm at the sharp edge. "You need to find some, Scorpius, and I have said that I shall stay by you."

"This is partly you, then," Scorpius said. "I have more important things to keep my attention. Good try, but that was all that was."

Sikozu curled her hands into fists.

"Scorpius," Iresa said.

"On screen," Scorpius said.

The starship looked little, like a transport from a Leviathan.

"We are being followed," Scorpius said. "I had figured on that. Captain of unknown transport, tell us your identity."

"I am a messenger for the mistress," said a scratchy Sheyang's voice.

"Mistress?" Scorpius said.

"Please. She'll punish me."

"She wants to talk with me?"

"She knows who you are. You are Scorpius, the half-breed Peacekeeper."

"Former Peacekeeper," Scorpius said. "Tell me about your mistress."

"You'll have to go to her."

"Alone? Or am I allowed to bring a bodyguard?" Scorpius said.

"Bring whoever you want. She doesn't mind, she says."

"All right, then," Scorpius said. "Dock with me, Sheyang. But be warned. I'll subject you and your starship with a weapons inspection."

"Yes. The same as you, when you have your introductions with the mistress."

"Inspection?" Sikozu said. "You want to touch a disgusting slimy creature?"

"You're my bodyguard. That's your duty," Scorpius said.

Sikozu shivered. "Yeec."

"We have a war," Scorpius said. "Get on with it."


	3. Chapter 2

**Political Constraints and Chemical Floods**

Chapter 2

SirNi

Her lover had meant the stay on the planet as a reprieve of the work of liberation for his squad, but it meant as least as much to the Nebari on the world. A girl could only stand a particular amount of time before she simply felt the need to shop, and happily her lover had understood.

When she found a bazaar that was precisely what she wanted, time simply concluded to matter until she felt hungry or thirsty or simply tired from the searching. Shopping, though always a fun pursuit, resembled work if a girl spent some unspecified amount of hours. She hadn't found her limit, certainly, but the shop owners knew what theirs was. The phrase "we have to go home, girl," usually described it.

Shop owners didn't like to see anyone after they had closed, and that hadn't even bothered Chiana once in a while. She was a thief, a trait that had become more important as she saw more of the galaxy. And a thief didn't ever acknowledge the closing of a store, or bother listening to anything the shopkeepers told her.

Sometimes, though, the shopkeepers were simply too friendly to screw with.

Chiana smiled up at the reptile behind the counter. She had never seen someone like him before, and wondered what his particular interests were. His mouth could stretch wide, wider than she could think possible. His eyes were tiny and enigmatic. And his tongue fascinated her. She gazed at it and tilted her head, following it.

"I see I have something that interests you," the reptile said.

The reptile was also tall. He stood four times as high as she, and brushed the ceiling with the odd ridges on his head.

"You do," Chiana said. "Are you feeling the same?"

"Certainly," the reptile said. "Are you available some time? I am done with work in a while, but if you might like to wait."

Chiana pondered the inquiry and smiled. "I might."

"Hello," said a voice not quite high and not quite low.

Chiana's shoulders dropped and her hands curled into fists. Jothee liked to control her, like his father, D'Argo, had. She was no one's servant. "Hello."

Jothee walked to the counter, whapped the worn metal with a gloved hand, and bounced coins across it. The tall reptile bent down and narrowly caught them. Jothee gestured at Chiana with the same hand. "Is she creating any disturbance, sir?"

"No, she isn't," the reptile said. "We were talking about potential purchases."

"Care to tell me the types of purchases?" Jothee said.

Chiana shook her head.

The reptile shrugged. "Nothing of any interest, sir."

"Chiana, what were you - "

Chiana whirled away and peered at Jothee's every move. He set his feet on the dirt floor, finding any solid ground he could achieve. His eyes followed Chiana warily, warrior reflexes tuned against any of Chiana's maneuvers. He knew, and she knew, that Chiana's maneuvers could never be predicted within a battle. Against a professional fighter, that wasn't a strength.

"I know what you're thinking," Chiana said. "You don't know why, but I do."

Jothee appeared nervous. "Chiana, I - "

"We both remember what happened to D'Argo. He disappeared, without any suggestion or hint or anything." Chiana twitched, as she remembered. "You want to find him. We all do. But you can't let him shadow you like that."

"I meant - "

"I understand. Okay? But I won't let you treat me like this. Either you treat me like a woman, like him, sometimes, or I simply won't be with you." Chiana panted, temporarily run out of words, but she wasn't relaxed.

"I meant I had wondered what you had bought," Jothee said.

Chiana leaned her head toward him. "Really?"

Jothee appeared abashed. "Yeah."

Chiana peered at him. "Oh, okay."

Jothee said, "And what you said."

"I meant what I said," Chiana said.

"You have some history?" asked the reptile.

Chiana smiled. "I'm a woman with a dark history."

"Very dark," Jothee said.

"Not any darker than you," Chiana said.

"Let's not start about that, not at the moment," Jothee said. "Can we leave, now?"

Chiana walked between the aisles of clothes. Jothee nudged her gently and she writhed away from his touch.

"I apologize for the problems," Jothee said.

Chiana winked while she left, and saw the shopkeeper's astonished face.

Neither of them talked initially, and the Nebari simply marvelled at the bazaar and its strange traits. Chiana was the woman she was, most of the stores distracted her. Some of them contained spicy or roasting food that she hadn't eaten or hadn't seen before, and the varied body parts involved in the creation made her feel both revulsion and intrigue. Others held bangles that she simply wanted to glance at and certainly wouldn't obtain for her own self. Certainly.

The objects were only part of the point, and the people all around her intrigued her much more. She saw a Sheyang pair with silver rings around their ears, because those frog-faced portly types were anywhere you looked in the galaxy. Not including the bartender, all the people she had seen on the planet had been small and skinny, which annoyed her. Where were the big, muscular types?

She had Jothee. But that didn't, and shouldn't, discount glances.

Then she saw a person behind a scrawny alien and clutched Jothee desperately. Her boyfriend peered at her, worry in his eyes. Chiana shook her head and squinted at the figure behind the crowd.

"What is he doing here?" Chiana asked.

"Who do you mean?" Jothee said. "Someone you know is on this world?"

"He's a Nebari," Chiana said. "I remember him. His eyes. He was one of the cruelest in the Establishment, and he's crawling around here. What could he be doing here? Is he after me, Jothee? Do they know I'm here?"

"Come on, Chiana," Jothee said.

Chiana backed up and bent her head around. She looked between Jothee and the Nebari, stalking closer within the group of people. He was calm and patient, and that was as frightening as any brutality he might have been showing with his pursuit. Either he wasn't aware of her presence, or he thought that she couldn't escape. Or perhaps it was only the mind cleansing.

Chiana darted her head at the Nebari. "Jothee. There's a Nebari over there."

Jothee stood on the heels of his feet as he worked on locating the mysterious person. Even at the moment, he was not a particularly tall man. Chiana found it amusing, because D'Argo had towered above her. Even Jothee's mother, Lo'lann, had seemed taller than him within the pictures D'Argo kept of his wife.

"Not seeing him, Chiana," Jothee said. "My people on shore leave, and they won't be pleasant if they're forced away from it. We've been on this planet barely an aftnon."

Chiana looked at the Nebari again, and caught his eyes. They squinted, curious. Hadn't he seen that she was there? Well, he didn't have any doubts about it, now.

"We have to leave, now," Chiana said. "I see him, and he's watching me. Trust me, Jothee. Get your people. I can meet you on Lo'lann."

Jothee nodded, slowly. "Okay. Meet you in forty microts. Where are you going?"

"Elsewhere," Chiana said. "I can run better than you."

"Watch out for yourself," Jothee said.

"No problem. No one's better than me," Chiana said. "Forty microts. Got it."

She hesitated, for a second, and then fled into an alley between a professional attire shop and a vegetable store. The shopkeeper didn't notice that she lifted a long and fresh looking cucumber from it. She didn't register it, mostly, either, and continued on her run into the alley. The Nebari had controlled her attention.

The buildings were higher than she might have liked, and the streets of a medium width. She slowed the speed of her run and looked for something that might let her reach the heights with less difficulty. These people hadn't built ladders or outdoor staircases onto their habitats, and she wondered why.

She saw a ladder, finally, and leapt toward it. The ladder wiggled underneath her weight, but that didn't bother her. She jumped as high as she could, grabbing for the ledge of the roof, and reached it. Standing on top of the roof, she leaned her body back, gazed over the edge and looked around for the Nebari. The operative hadn't followed her.

A grin crept across Chiana's features. Laughter boiled up, but she tightly held it down. She was loud, and she knew that might show the Nebari her location. She leapt across a series of buildings, on each landing her tough leather boots thumping with a loud noise on the rough roof.

She peered over the edge, toward the street, each time, and finally noticed the Nebari standing, relaxed, beside the storefront of a used shuttle merchant. She crept forward. The Nebari whispered to a gadget he held.

"Finally. Have I mentioned that I hate go-betweens? We have found your woman," the Nebari said. "She is on this world, though I do know for what duration."

Chiana shivered as fingers danced around her vertebrae.

"I said, I'm not sure. She might be leaving, or she might not be. A Luxan was alongside her, and she seemed conflicted in his presence."

The Nebari looked up. His eyes were bleary, like he felt tired. That didn't tell her anything special. Mind cleansing often did that to people. Crichton had a particular strange reaction. He seemed lighter, and she almost liked him that way. It scared her. She didn't want to like anything about the Nebari government.

"She might be a romantic interest with him. Their fight might have been powerful enough so that he might leave her here with us, and if he does that, we have her. She can't escape. That isn't a problem."

She could escape from anything. Something about how he said that made her wonder if he could abduct her, though.

"No, I don't know where she is. Watch the orbit and work into customs and security. We'll know what ship they're in, and then, we can get them. Poleris out."

The Nebari stomped into the crowd and Chiana watched him walk. He had the cadence of a professional soldier, and a limp.

"Miss?" asked a voice.

The reptile stood on the roof, some feet away from her.

"What?" Chiana asked.

"I was concerned for you," the bartender said. "I thought I might follow you."

"Are you insane?" Chiana said. "Go back to your shop!"

"No," the bartender said. "You need my help."

She lifted her eyebrow. "How do you mean? Explain."

"Someone's following you."

Chiana frowned. How much did this man know?

"Someone came by the store and asked about your presence. I thought I might warn you."

"I appreciate the effort," Chiana said. "You don't know me, but I - wait."

"What is it?"

Chiana peered down. The crowd had retreated, and police had surrounded the store.

"You're wanted on suspicion of smuggling," an officer said. "Please come down, and we won't be forced to harm you."

Chiana yanked the reptile forward. "Sure you don't mean him?"

"We're instructed to bring each of you into the station. Come down."

"You don't know me," Chiana said. "Do you know what I think of cops?"

The officer shook his head. "I - "

"I never go with cops to the station," Chiana said. "A cheap room, maybe. Some of you people are really hot."

"I - well, I appreciate - "

Chiana glanced above her and saw a metal object shining against the sun. "I don't like the station. Got it?"

"We're acting on a suggestion, all right?"

Chiana poked the reptile and gestured at a rope from the shining metal ship. The reptile moved into position underneath the rope and grabbed it. Chiana did so, too, and smiled at the officer.

"You know the annoying thing?" she yelled.

"Can't say I do," the bartender said.

"I like cops. Once in a while."


	4. Chapter 4

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 4

SirNi

The police weren't familiar with Lo'Lann, and that helped them. Awareness of the gun turret on the old Luxan warship might have convinced them not to shoot their pulse pistols at its blue metal sheen, but they didn't know, and did so because of that. Red dots, miniscule but threatening, crowded on the radar. The ship didn't register most of the shots, but a pair of them rocked the ship. Jothee knocked back against his chair.

"What's going on, captain?" asked Chiana.

Jothee splayed an arm on the back of the chair and frowned at her. "Did you have to bring along your new boyfriend?"

Chiana stared at him with boiling fury. "He isn't my boyfriend. You are."

"Then why so much of the charm?" Jothee said.

Chiana didn't answer at first, seeking the right words. "I wanted something from him, but I didn't want him."

"You didn't?" asked the bartender. "I thought you did!"

"Don't ask," Chiana said. "I can't explain at the moment."

Jothee's co-pilot, Trasna, ran into the room from the engine section of Lo'Lann. The ship had always been small, but Jothee and the three men of his squad had connected a tiny gun turret on it. The primary gun of the Lo'Lann could upgrade, it seemed, but it had worked only once. After that, it hadn't acknowledged anyone but its true master.

Which meant, of course, that the only person who could work it was Jothee's missing father, Ka D'argo.

"There's no choice, then," Jothee said. "Get yourself comfortable. We'll have to bring you along, but at the first docking you're getting off. You got that, both of you? I hope you're not working for the enemy, because you won't stand a chance against us. We're Luxans, and we do not like prisoners."

The bartender crossed his legs on the floor. He was tall, even in that position. "I'm Eteran Arla. You can look me up in the database if you want."

"I don't want," Jothee said, and spun around to face the radar and the window again. "Trasna, how is the engine?"

"Power is reduced by a seventh," Trasna said. "I don't think that should present any trouble, captain."

Jothee yanked the countermeasures lever above his head and watched a scout shoot out behind Lo'Lann. He pressed a series of buttons, finding the coordinates of their position. "All right. We're almost in orbit, and we're going to see some company. The cops want our hide, because someone made them angry."

"I saw someone out there!" Chiana said.

"Maybe you'll see them in a ship. Want to get in the turret?"

"I hoped you might ask," Chiana said. "I'm going, I'm going."

"Okay," Jothee replied, and spun toward Trasna. "You remember how fun this was the first time, right."

"Yeah," Trasna said. "Rimaldi's in the back."

"Now that is reassuring," Jothee said. "We'll need him."

He rubbed his beard, the long monster which always seemed to be quite growing but not to the length he hoped to accomplish. He had chopped off part of his tenkas as a reaction to his father's abandonment, and sometime, he wasn't certain when, he had come to regret it. His beard seemed to want to punish him.

With his other hand he chased the rest stations in the planet's atmosphere, into the orbit with its heavy guns and obnoxious customs inspections, to high orbit and finally into deep space and an escape from another world that they had made angry at them. Attitudes often cooled off, assuming that they hadn't destroyed the government as they came in or left. And that was the more likely outcome.

Unlike some planets, the rest stations were more common than the bazaars on the actual ground. Jothee hadn't thought it when they came down, but it could present a problem as they sought to leave. He wasn't particularly interested in hurting innocent civilians. Conflicts almost always hurt some bystander.

Jothee shook his head. In that, he was like his father.

He kicked the ship's ignition onward and began the trip. As far as Jothee could see, the journey required maybe ten or fifteen minutes. It might be a fast run, if no other surprises crawled out of the planet and chased after them. The rest stations could be easy to avoid, and the customs could be dodged. No problem at all.

"Captain?" Trasna asked.

Jothee squeezed his forehead. Certainly. "What is it?"

"They've got a flight capable escort," Trasna said. "I'm detecting weapons, and it's flying toward us."

"We're not standing down," Jothee said. He yelled to the back of the ship. "Chiana? Rimaldi? You get that?"

"I hear!" Chiana said. "Ammunition's set and your girl's getting impatient."

"Be watching," Jothee replied.

"You get to flying," Chiana said. "I can handle your weapons."

"Of course you can," Jothee said.

Jothee whirled the controls and bounced against his chair as a blast connected with Lo'Lann from underneath his boots. Trasna grunted. Chiana and Rimaldi replied with their own okays. Trasna glanced at Jothee, and a visor crept down from the ceiling and connected onto his eyes. The heads-up showed him details on the police escort, the Lo'Lann's armor and weapons, and let him see the rear.

After that, the screen became a blur. None of them had any more time for thought. The police on the planet had mostly been new, but their atmosphere forces were quite talented, and a couple more poured out from the first rest station. They were now in a fight for their freedom, and even absorbed in the calculations and howling alarms, Jothee could hear Chiana's excited cackle as she controlled the rear turret.

Chiana had always been unpredictable, and Jothee, like, he thought, his father, and her lovers before him, could hardly resist his attraction to her zealous personality. Anything she did, she did with complete appreciation and energy. He carefully forced his thoughts away from her and onto the battle.

The first escort launched another blast at them and knocked cables from the ceiilng. Jothee shoved them aside, glanced at Trasna, and the smile said he didn't have to worry about anything quite yet. The escort fled from range afterward, and Jothee imitated the move. Why not use the advantage?

Chiana yelled, "Don't move!"

"They'll get a blast at us!" Trasna replied. "I can't recharge the shields yet!"

Jothee moved the speed down a couple points.

"You're insane!" Trasna said.

"She has an idea," Jothee said. "Trust her, Trasna."

"Trust the girl?" Trasna said.

"She isn't a girl," Jothee said.

Chiana cackled. "Move! Frelling move!"

Jothee spun toward the screen. One of the escorts, the second who had sped toward them with another shot in mind, had flames from its rear and was falling onto the atmosphere. He looked at Trasna. "That woman," he said, "is good at guns."

Trasna blinked and looked at the screen.

Jothee knew how much he could handle in a dogfight. Three police cruisers, each with a basic knowledge of their controls, would be able to outmaneuver him. Two he could handle, though if they were unusually good at their job, they would present a problem for him. Lo'Lann was still a new ship for him, much looser than he had been familiar piloting before, and it often moved faster than he wanted.

According to the heads-up, the orbit of the world didn't lay that far beyond their current location. Jothee thrust the engines into a higher speed and felt his physique squish against the seat. He grunted and heard a similar noise from Trasna. He couldn't hear neither Rimaldi nor Chiana. Acceleration never helped anyone's state of mind.

Lo'Lann fled by a rest stop, and the heads-up caught a glimpse of civilians glancing at the chase in surprise. Jothee laughed, appreciating the attention. Circles on the radar showed the atmosphere getting thinner as they left it, and finally the blue dimmed to a pure darkness, showing that they had reached space. The police, as Jothee thought, only concerned themselves with the planet, and went back.

He set the heads-up in its niche above the cockpit and called in his most confident voice. "We're free, people. Where should we go now?"

"We need to drop off this guy," Trasna said, pointing at Arla. "He shouldn't be here."

Snaps and thumps came from the back of the ship, and Chiana ran to the front. She looked at Jothee and Trasna cautiously. "You don't have to worry about him."

"I can talk for myself," the bartender said.

Chiana blinked and gestured at him. "I suppose you can."

"You can bring me wherever you might," Arla said. "I didn't intend to come along on this trip to begin with."

"You don't want to see adventurers for a while?" Chiana said.

"Nah," Arla said. "That planet is my home, and I like it there."

Chiana shrugged. Jothee noticed she looked downcast, and wondered at the reason. Did she really care about Arla? Was this her period of the month? She became really bipolar around then.

A silence, not completely friendly, settled onto the cockpit until Trasna said, "Oh yotz."

Jothee frowned. "What is it, Trasna?"

"I see a Command Carrier," Trasna said.

Jothee whirled around, brought the heads-up on his eyes again, and gestured Chiana back toward the turret. She ran and tripped once on a grate in the floor.

"Its flak cannons aren't pointing at us. Its prowlers aren't flying, and it's all by myself. Any ideas, Trasna?" Jothee said. "They usually have other ships with them."

"That's the weirdest Peacekeeper vessel I've ever seen. Focus closer on it. You can see the prowlers in the hangars, and the flak cannons obviously have ammunition, but it's just sitting there. It's all alone. I mean, we could blast it with no trouble at all. I'm not suggesting that," Trasna said.

"Okay, this might not be a Peacekeeper," Jothee said. "They don't usually let anyone else use their ships, but maybe this thing escaped their eyes. We are in Tormented Space, even if it's the bare edge of it. When did the thing come into range, Trasna?"

"Well, it is quite a way from us," Trasna said.

"That," Jothee said. "Let's sneak back and avoid its range."

"I like that plan," Trasna said.

Jothee reduced Lo'Lann to a sixth of the speed and crept around the Command Carrier. It appeared to twitch, but that might have been his anxiety.

"Get moving, man, it's starting its engines," Trasna said.

"Really?" Jothee said.

"It's coming!" Trasna said. "Hear that, people? It's coming!"

"I don't think it's launching cannons..." Jothee said.

"It's got a Vigilante segment. It's shimmering brightly," Trasna said. "It wants to capture us."

"Speeding up!" Jothee yelled, and shoved Lo'Lann into her highest gear.

Peacekeepers were ruthless when they sought to capture fugitives or criminals or people who sought to counter their cruel leadership. Jothee could not let himself be captured by them, and anything short of destroying himself, his ship or his things were choices before such a thing could occur. He kept a hand on a lever next to his chair, which, when touched, lit up a light on Chiana's heads-up.

After he had obtained Lo'Lann, he had connected burners onto it, controlled by Chiana with the same turret from which she launched missiles. It wasn't a particularly risky idea, and Chiana had cheered at the suggestion. She knew how to flee from a fight, and she simply liked the sense of active motion. He hadn't used them yet, and he wasn't sure they could race faster than a flagship of the Peacekeepers. But if he had to use them in a combat situation, he had to. A man could not compromise against the Peacekeepers.

"We're got prowlers," Trasna said. "I count five of them."

"That's a full squad," Jothee yelled to the back of the ship. "Careful with the targeting, Chiana."

Chiana didn't answer him at first, but finally, in a quieter voice, said, "Copy that, captain."

Jothee nibbled on his thoughts as he flew from the Peacekeeper flagship and went further into the depths of space. In combat with a Peacekeeper, she had to be collected, if, as usual, quite hyper. His instincts were right, and Chiana was feeling strangely somehow. He knew better than to expose any of her emotions to the entire ship, but he was concerned. Why was she acting so moodily?

The prowlers crawled into a circular maneuver around Lo'Lann. The red tips of their missile launchers lit and waited, charging. He had expected that they might keep the point position open for an easy shot from the vigilante part. Chiana's turret forced two of the prowlers out of missile range, but a missile still knocked the port side of Lo'Lann.

Anyone in conflict with a Peacekeeper flagship learned quickly that prowlers were never a fighter to underestimate. A single missile could eliminate the systems on a lesser ship, and their fighter weaponry shot with such a rate that even Lo'Lann, the fastest ship Jothee had ever piloted, could only hold its own against two or three. And that was with a pilot built for the ship.

Within the temporary chaos after the missile strike, Jothee had only one tactic available to him, and he flew the ship right at the bow of the Command Carrier. This allowed him to successfully avoid the vigilante's immobilizing beam and continue his maneuvers against the prowlers. One of them spiralled into the distance, and Chiana war yell echoed within the walls of Lo'Lann.

"What are the engines doing?" Jothee yelled at the quiet Rimaldi.

"No problems yet," Rimaldi said.

Jothee curved the ship between the support rings of the Command Carrier. Shuttles swerved out of his way and a couple of prowlers geared up to intercept him. Jothee cursed softly and watched for an opening in the rings. His copilot lit up a part of the rings and Jothee spun Lo'Lann toward it. He kept his fingers on the lever, his hands sweating.

He came closer, and finally reached it. He yanked back on the burner.

And nothing happened.

"Chiana?" Jothee said.

"Aren't working!" Chiana said.

"Dren!" Jothee said. "Then we're going to be busy for a while."

Arla said, with a quiet voice, "That is quite the swarm of ships."

"That is!" Jothee said. "Chiana, keep shooting. Rimaldi, get working on the burners."

"Working!" Rimaldi replied.

"Okay, I'm fine with that," Jothee said. "Dren. Is that what I think I see?"

"How did it do that? It spun around - "

The lights, and the heads-up, abruptly went black. Jothee got up and picked up the blade next to his chair. "We're immobilized. No complaining, no backtalk, we can't do any of that right now. Check in, people."

The crew, and Arla, answered his call.

"Whatever they're doing now," Jothee said, "they aren't getting us without a fight."

"What a pilot," Trasna said.

"I said, no backtalk."

"We're a mercenary team," Trasna said. "So I say what I want to. You're absolutely accurate with the second part." Trasna clunked a round into his pistol. "They want war, so they'll get a war."


	5. Chapter 5

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 5

SirNi

Planets, stars, fleets and the lengths of space and time between them glowed into existence across the back wall of the lounge. The sector was of a medium size, Scorpius could see that with a glimpse. As he looked at it closer, and Harwalan's expression told him that she was patient, he realised that the amount of militarized forces well outweighed the sector in proportion, the fleets more appropriate to maneuver within a sector of four times its size.

Scorpius pondered which locations in the galaxy might require the same amount of weaponry. One of the five Sebacean Breakaways, or the highest flank of the Sebacean-Scarren border before the war, and he certainly hadn't thought any part of Tormented Space would attract this high of interest.

It also presented another question, and Scorpius gazed at Malahati Harwalan. "Yours are blue?"

Harwalan nodded.

"From my estimates, your fleet holds ninety capital ships, a match mostly equal between light, medium and heavy. The sector has perhaps sixteen planets, and half that in bases. People must work on both sides, or you're holding something from me. Which is it, Malahati? What are you doing?" Scorpius said.

Harwalan lifted her left fingers and showed him her pointer as it touched a panel on the side of the chair. "I'm not showing you everything, Scorpius. I always hold something back. Look at the radar."

Sikozu squirmed and the chair sloshed beneath her. "Oh."

The paintings ascended into the ceiling and the wall, what parts of it there were, vanished like a series of stars glittering out of existence. His peripheral sight showed Harwalan smiling widely, and showing all of her miniature, pointed teeth. He wondered what they might feel like against his skin, and forced the thought from his mind.

Finally, Harwalan had presented the last part of her business to him. The ship within which he sat at the moment was only a single piece. Her true flagship, and the giant monstrosity across the window into space, appeared perhaps three quarters the size of a moon. Something Crichton had mentioned, a story from his world, poked at his mind, but he couldn't quite remember it. That annoyed him.

Scorpius searched the structure for the position in which it might connect with the ship on which he sat. This one was obviously the command center, and little more, because the ship in front of him, a longer, smoother vessel, and a light shade of white, had more cannons, missiles, interceptor crafts, and, maybe the most crucially, repair locations for capital ships.

"Explain, Malahati," Scorpius said.

Harwalan's lips pursed. "You do not command me on my own ship."

"I merely asked," Scorpius said.

"You commanded," Harwalan said.

Scorpius felt the coolant rod whirling in his head, a bizarre sensation he had never become used to and probably never could, warning him of the intensity of the conversation. He was quite aware of it. "I'm aware of my position, Malahati."

A little of the edge escaped Harwalan. "You are an insolent creature, Scorpius. Be careful how far you push me."

"What might you do?" Scorpius asked.

Harwalan's expression altered, as though she had learned something new. "Pain, Scorpius. Powerful, scorching pain, as you have never felt before."

According to her temperature, she was telling him what she thought was genuinely true. Scorpius had felt immense pain before, and had enjoyed some of it.

"I listen and understand, Mistress," Scorpius said.

Harwalan grinned. "Mistress?"

Sikozu laughed, an enveloping, infectious sound, and Harwalan laughed, throaty and royal. Scorpius laughed softly, appreciating the women.

"Anyway, back to business. Might you explain, Malahati?"

Harwalan stood up and walked toward the grid of the sector. She turned around, balanced on the high heels, and gestured her nose a little higher. Obviously she was setting up for a lecture mode, and Scorpius had no problem with that. He adored listening to beautiful women describe a subject that interested them.

To begin matters, she touched a finger on a planet on the far left side of the map, in every coordinate.

"Okay, this is the way the situation is set up," Harwalan said. "We're right beside this planet, and a liminaris substance coats my ship, which can't be found by any radar I've ever seen used in this sector. That includes any of mine." Harwalan shrugged. "The drawback is obvious, and it can mildly annoying sometimes, but it is nonetheless a necessity."

"Being cloaked is more important than the security of your own forces," Scorpius said. "Unique."

"This ship is my base, and it continually roves to support my people in this sector," Harwalan said. "They're frequently reassured when I appear. But. I do not like to risk my ship in combat against any class stronger than it, and so they are often fighting on their own with strategic support from a distance."

Scorpius smiled. "I have a question, Malahati."

Harwalan nodded. "What would that be?"

"Would a leviathan's Starburst capability disrupt any of your careful plans?" Scorpius asked.

"Leviathans are frequently seen, and rarely bother me." Harwalan peered at him, as though he was insane.

"You do remember Moya," Scorpius said. "John Crichton's base?"

Harwalan nodded warily. "Oh, that ship. I haven't seen it."

Sikozu curled her hands around her right knee. "Moya was an unusually brilliant leviathan. They are often so slow witted, but Moya had a strong awareness of who and where she was."

Harwalan peered curiously at Sikozu. "Might that have been a power of Crichton's? Many reports have said he had an ability to inspire people, and show them capable of emotions and ideas which they never had realised."

Scorpius pushed down on the side of the chair. It fell against his Scarren strength, and he felt the coolant rod glowing. He required another, and had to find an out from the conversation. "The man inspired legends," Scorpius said. "But, like all of us, he was simply another man."

Harwalan's eyes opened wide at Scorpius's rage and then relaxed. "He was a creature no one in the galaxy had seen in all of recorded history."

"Trust me," Scorpius said softly. "He was not completely new. I'll explain some other time." He gestured at the map and gestured at his rod chamber with the same hand. He hoped Sikozu noticed it. "Continue with your description of the sector's military and political situation." He smiled with teeth. "If you might."

"Okay," Harwalan said, starting on the lecture without any acknowledge of the other subject in the conversation, "my ship is cloaked from radar for the simple reason that Captain Banikstan's fleet is immensely, and terrifyingly, powerful. It wields somewhere between seventy and eighty ships, mostly heavy capital ships with ship-to-ship weaponry."

"But neither of you rule the sector," Scorpius said.

"Quite," Harwalan said. "The difference in the strategy we wield. I attack. He defends. Always."

"Captain Banikstan simply doesn't move from his position?" Scorpius said.

Harwalan gestured at four planets, of the sixteen within the sector. "His most powerful ships always stay around his base, and act in a patrol capacity. He controls the planets themselves with surveillance and police, like the Peacekeepers from whom he originated. Against his center, Scorpius, I think you could be a benefit."

"If you could open his base, you could control the sector," Scorpius said.

"I might certainly obtain the advantage," Harwalan said.

"Do you have an idea when you might seek this reply?" Scorpius asked.

"Sometime or another," Harwalan said. "No hurry. I've been fighting this war for a while, and I imagine I won't simply be the victor with the destruction of a base."

"Indeed," Scorpius said. "If you might not mind, I should be going, then."

Harwalan smiled. "My officers will join you. Thank you for your time, Scorpius. I'll be awaiting another meeting with you."

Scorpius nodded, and bowed a little. "And you as well, Malahati."

Sikozu smiled, but didn't reply. She simply chased Scorpius from the lounge.

Scorpius peered out of the main window of the Iresa. Sikozu sat on a table on one side, perhaps twenty feet from him, and another table sat on his right. He touched the coolant cylinder and listened to the spin as it rolled out. He picked up the crimson rod carefully and set it on the table.

His fingers, gloveless as they were, felt hot, like they might burn off, but the heat in his head was the only thing he could sense around him. He disliked the feeling, and had been very picky in the people who, other than himself, could replace his coolant rod. He was never more vulnerable than when he had it out. Crichton hadn't realised, long ago, how close he had brought Scorpius to his absolute destruction.

Scorpius set the blue rod in. The cooling system began again, wielding its weird combination of liquids, and he sighed with relief with relief. Sikozu peered at him, cautious. He had let her have that power above him once, but Scorpius doubted he could ever do that again.

"What do you think of the conflict?" Scorpius said. "We do not yet know much about Captain Banikstan."

Sikozu spun her face toward him. She kept her legs dangling from the table, and her hands splayed on either side. "Harwalan finds you attractive."

Scorpius peered out of the window while his body went back to its equilibrious state. His insides bubbled and only his self control kept him from squirming at the sensation. At least they weren't roasting. His reply was brisk. "You noticed."

Sikozu sat there, waiting for more, but she quickly realised that she would have to continue the conversation. "She was sharp on any oversteppings of your position. You didn't show a reaction and submitted, but I know you disliked that."

"I did," Scorpius said.

"So why?" Sikozu said.

Scorpius leaned his head back and shuddered. "What was the alternative?"

Sikozu gazed out at space. "Pushing her further."

"What might that have achieved?" Scorpius said.

"Probably nothing," Sikozu said. "But you could have. I was with you, as, as you said, your bodyguard." Her voice curled.

"You were... admirable," Scorpius said.

Sikozu sat up straighter, and Scorpius felt a little annoyed that the bodice hid her movements. A sound came from her larynx, but she came up with no reply.

Scorpius smiled. Neither he nor she had expected a compliment, but he simply had to acknowledge that as the truth. She was good at security. That was probably one more change between the Wars and the moment. The room fell into a soft quiet, and he flipped on the news programs at a minimized volume.

The first thing he saw was a glimmering blue starship dodging the rings of a Peacekeeper capital ship. Prowlers chased it, and an immobilizer from a vessel he hadn't seen touched it on its roof. The ship's comm were out, if not every trace of its power.

A Sebacean talking head appeared in a square on the window. "The captain of the ship, Declan Banikstan, has brought police forces out, and they're about to go into the ship. They suspect the inhabitants, several Luxans, a Nebari and an unknown species, are armed and dangerous. However, all weapons are - "

"A Luxan?" Scorpius said. "A Nebari?"

"Ka D'argo?" Sikozu asked.

Scorpius gazed at her. "He disappeared, saving us from the Scarrens. I don't think that's him, though the Nebari is very probably Chiana. I think the Luxan is Jothee."

"He sounds familiar," Sikozu said.

"I had unpleasant relations with him," Scorpius said.

"You could make it up with him?" Sikozu said.

"Can you think of any reason for that?" Scorpius said. "Harwalan is on my side. I like her. Retrieving prisoners from Banikstan could set her against me, and show that I am not to be trusted."

"That sounds like a good reason," Sikozu said. "You aren't the sort of man who joins one side and ignores all of the others. We can be subtle. They won't know who we are."

"Work with a proxy?" Scorpius said.

Sikozu smiled. "I have another idea. I think you might like it."


	6. Chapter 6

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 6

SirNi

Jothee stood on the left side of the door, and Chiana stood on the other. She hid so strongly in the darkness that he could barely see her. She wore a leather and steel boxer's bodice, though, and no one else did. That showed her for her. And, thinking of any his crew, he found that he would trust her further than anyone else. And he had.

"You know the layout," Jothee said. "I'll go first, but be out after me."

Chiana nodded manically. Her nerves were frayed. "All right."

"One," Jothee said.

Boots stomped into position on the other side of the door. Jothee tightened his grip on his rifle. They kept coming, and he didn't know how many were out there. He thought of the immobilizer strike against Lo'Lann and rage forced his sight red.

Jothee yelled, "Two three," and opened the door.

Red explosions permeated the corridor and made Jothee temporarily blind against any normal shapes. Within the blasts, he saw maybe four or five soldiers, and, he supposed, a Marauder crew. One of them toppled to the floor, one held his arm, a wound. The soldiers retreated, out of the rust-covered door from the room, and Jothee saw where Lo'Lann had been brought. The room was small and stacked with debris and equipment. They had walked into a miniature hangar.

"The structures on the wall tell me we're on the hammond side, but in the middle of nowhere," Chiana said. "I can't think of why they would do that. Why wouldn't they want us where we could be easy prey?"

"Let's find out," Jothee said. He found a forking hallway, looked left and jogged down the path.

Chiana chased him, looking nervous. Trasna, Rimaldi and Arla made little noise. "They're launching a trap, I'm sure of it."

"So? We aren't waiting for them to unleash it," Jothee replied.

Chiana smiled, but the emotion didn't quite match her eyes. "It feels creepy, Jothee. Something isn't right on this ship."

Jothee paused and lifted his rifle into a waiting position. He looked at Chiana, searching her face about any connotations. Chiana had long ago transformed her features into several expressions: lively and wild, or a scared urchin. This was another, created against her own intention. She looked as though she had seen her true soul, and that sight had forced her to question everything she had known.

"Something isn't right here," Chiana said. "I can't set my finger on it."

"We're going in anyway," Jothee said. "You know that."

Chiana grinned. "I like that."

"Be on your guard, people," Jothee said over his shoulder. "Chiana senses trouble."

"Yes, sir," Trasna said.

"Okay," Rimaldi said.

His people, even the two warriors who had left after a complaint against his leadership, learned about Chiana's intuitive abilities two years ago, in a journey to an ancient Scarren ammunition manufacturing location with precisely the ship-to-ship missiles they had sought to obtain. Chiana had warned them about the place, and even then they had barely escaped an ambush from Scorvians who had holed up in it.

Even with the warning, Trasna had been horribly wounded. Without Chiana's warning, none of them might have gotten away with their lives.

The squad continued into the next hallway without finding any patrol, and the one after that. The doors on either side showed them containers with chemicals and another showed them giant stacks of ice. Whatever they were for, Jothee thought, they probably were a boon against the Living Death.

A table and chair and monitor sat in another.

"Hey, mind if I look for a map?" Rimaldi said.

Jothee said, "No. We're simply in and out. Besides, I'm getting really creeped out. This place is deserted."

"I don't think so," Chiana said.

Jothee spun toward her.

Chiana pointed a finger to the end of the hall and whispered, "Look."

A bioorganic creature crawled into the hallway from the right side. He wasn't sure if he was glimpsing a Boolite or if a madman had connected machine aspects with the starship and thought to include, like he had almost forgotten, an alien species ito the combination. Either way, the alien appeared like liquid metal. Jothee suspected that when it came into the hallway it could move very easily.

The creature's arms hadn't pulled every part of it into the hallway yet. Its arms, similar to its form, were smooth and spindly. Its flesh was colored a shimmering blue and its machine parts gunmetal grey that appeared to attract the metal of the starship to connect to its substance. Jothee wasn't quite sure at the method, but the machine certainly kept them from any way of going around it.

Jothee whistled, softly. "Dren."

Rimaldi jabbed his lockpicks toward the door.

"Right!" Jothee said.

Rimaldi swore. "This isn't working!"

Chiana sighed, exasperated. "Here, let me do it."

Rimaldi shook his head and laughed. "Got it! Everyone in!"

Chiana dropped the rifle and leaned her shoulders back. "Uhn uh."

"What do you think you're doing?" Jothee said. "You can't run from it!"

"No, I know that," Chiana said. "I can run around it and get further than any of you. I can keep its attention and force it away from you."

"Too risky!" Jothee said. "It might splash you with that goo."

Chiana growled. "You're not my captain, Jothee. I know no leader."

Jothee thumped the door with one hand. It hit the frame and appeared to open. But the lock switched and kept them outside. Rimaldi might unlock it, but neither of them could be in position long enough for it to be any difference.

Chiana and Jothee retreated. Jothee brought his rifle. Chiana was unarmed.

"I'll shoot it," Jothee said. "You run around it."

The Nebari smiled, adoring the moment. "Do you know how insane you are?"

"You came up with the idea," Jothee said. "Go!"

At the highest setting, the rifle chittered in Jothee's arms. All of his Luxan strength barely kept the thing from roaming halfway around the room and poking the machine's steel face. He peered at Chiana in his peripheral sight, the appearance beautiful as it always was, and realised the machine's horrible intelligence.

The thing was chasing her.

Jothee couldn't tell how the creature was keeping its attention on Chiana, but while she ran through the hallway on her path toward the thing, it threw a sticky length of grey metal inches behind her knees. The Nebari didn't notice, and simply continued forward toward the creature itself.

She knew her business, and she had told Jothee to contribute to the struggle. He had no idea what to do. The blasts from his rifles didn't seem to wound it, and he couldn't touch it. Jothee peered around him, looking for another tactic, some other act that could distract the machine so Chiana could do whatever she was doing.

He looked at the sprinklers, the door, the map on the room, and his crew. Rimaldi was busy with the computer, but Trasna and Arla were looking nervous. Jothee grinned at their faces. No one looked appropriate behind bars. And then he thought of it. The machine used metal. But might it compel it?

He dropped the rifle. Chiana had almost approached the creature, and that told him she might need him when he got in close. Jothee yanked a panel from the wall, exposing pipes that leaked water and wires that twitched sparks, and flung the panel at the creature. A bit of it snapped toward it and connected.

Jothee yanked another, flung it, and watched the creature. The liquid slowly twisted toward him, annoyed with this new opponent.

"Chiana!" Jothee yelled. "I found a distraction!"

Chiana didn't reply. She was crawling into the creature's bits. Jothee flung another panel, and another. Then the machine screamed and charged toward him. Jothee whipped the panel from his hands and raced down the hallway. The creature was fast, and its scream bellowed. Jothee screamed, the fury of a Luxan in retreat, and the creature, he thought, actually silenced for a second.

But only for a second, and the creature began the hunt.

The whirring and growling of the machine's interior processes chased him through several hallways. He couldn't remember the path to Lo'Lann in his desperate panic, and wasn't certain that he should go back to the ancient ship in the first place. He thought, as much he could think in those moments, that he preferred getting lost to getting trapped between the ship and a machine that could potentially subsume it.

Jothee's tenkas flailed behind him as he ran, getting into his eyes and into the way of his vision. He barely restrained the urge to spin around and confront the monster, whether it could touch him or not. A warrior, especially the son of a powerful warrior like Ka D'Argo, couldn't run for such a long time. He had to face the monster and challenge it, no matter what the result might be.

On the second fork, Jothee waited, crouching with his hands curled into fists, and leapt onto the machine. He had never been a graceful man, and he hung to the machine's thrashing figure. The liquid metal yanked at his legs, searching to wrap around him and maybe throw him from his handhold, and Jothee kicked desperately at them. The machine growled, and he thought, for a second, he knew precisely where the noise was originated from.

Jothee climbed further on top of the machine, his head brushing the ceiling, and saw Chiana yanking apart some colored wires from a panel somewhere on it. The machine chased him, and he kept up with the kicking.

He yelled, "Chi!"

Chiana jumped and almost fell from the back of the machine.

"Don't surprise me like that!" Chiana said. "I didn't think you could be able to get up - here - wait - " Her rubber gloved hands gripped several cords and pulled them, to the roots, from the panel. The machine shivered, deep within its structure, and the struggle against Jothee's legs abruptly concluded.

"I didn't know you were a hacker," Jothee said.

Chiana's dark eyes glimmered with satisfaction. "Me? Computers? No." She looked down at the machine. "I just get busy and see where it brings me."

"It certainly worked," Jothee replied.

A Sebacean walked into the hallway, two helmeted soldiers at his side. "A temporary setback. If you might please get off of my highly valuable patrol, I have some questions to ask you."

Jothee smiled. His beard scratched against his lips. "Who might you be?"

The Sebacean appeared slightly different from any other Jothee had seen, and he wondered initially whether the man was a Sebacean at all. He wore the uniform of a Peacekeeper captain, with the black jacket and pants and the red stripes, and the only non-Sebacean he had ever known admitted into the military force had been the half-breed scientist Scorpius. He had never forgotten his face, for the mindboggling cruelty he had inflicted in front of Jothee's youthful face.

Jothee wondered if the Sebacean captain might feel a similar emotion if he were to see Scorpius. Half of the Sebacean's face was an old black mask, from the bottom of the line of his hair to his jaw. Some glue kept it in place, because the flesh attached to the steel appeared puckered. The mask appeared form-fitting, connecting to the exact features of the man's flesh. It made Jothee remember Scorpius, and the thousands of slaves, but he resisted jumping to any conclusions about the man's origin.

"The captain of this base," said the Sebacean. "Come easily or I shall be forced to counter with sharp measures."

Chiana tensed. She appeared to want to spring into action and leap onto the captain. "What might those be?"

"I have your friends," the Sebacean said. "I could have detained you, but it seems I must more carefully secure my weapons. Please make this easy."

A red bolt blasted in the middle of the hallway, between the captain, Chiana, Jothee and the captain's machine. A panel of the ceiling followed it, blackened with blaster char. Jothee glanced upward and saw a woman with red hair and a black rubber outfit, and a man with a full-face leather mask.

"I have your answer," the man replied, out of visual range of the captain. "Let them leave, and you won't have harm come to you and your people."

"Who might you be to say that?" asked the captain.

"I have no reason to tell you that," said the man from the ceiling. "You are Captain Declan Banikstan, and your activities are incorrect."

Jothee peered at the Sebacean, finding his throat hoarse. How did the man in the ceiling know his name? Could he be bluffing the captain? He thought about it, and then realised. The man in the ceiling wasn't bluffing. He never bluffed. He was Scorpius.

The Sebacean glanced upward. "Please tell me more. You do not have the advantage, and I want to know why you think otherwise."

"I have a headshot lined up on you, captain. I hold weapons, bombs and your security has been deactivated until such time as I instruct," the man said. "Let them leave safely."

"They're mine," the captain said. "Shoot me. I dare you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 7

SirNi

A rifle bolt rang out.

Captain Banikstan's head flicked aside, and for a moment, Scorpius thought the shot had genuinely brought the man down. He then realised it wouldn't be as simple as that, or the captain wouldn't have dared step into such a maneuver. Then he lifted his head again, the studs of light in the ceiling glimmering off his mask. Considering his origin, Scorpius wasn't sure whether the light came from without or within.

And Scorpius, unusually, felt a twinge of hesitation.

"Splendid shot," Captain Banikstan said. "But you underestimate me."

"It appears so," Scorpius replied.

Scorpius didn't bother conducting another shot, and as he had thought might happen, Banikstan stepped into the hallway and allowed his men to take his place. As they crouched down on the ground into a stationary position, six of the eight angled their weapons up at the ceiling. They apparently knew precisely what position to target.

Scorpius and Sikozu exchanged a nod and leapt down onto the same machine as Jothee and Chiana. Sikozu, as per her race, had no problems with balance, and shifted her center of gravity. Scorpius didn't have it quite as easy, and found a miniature handhold to keep himself from falling onto the floor.

Jothee frowned. "I know you."

"This is not the time for petty grudges," Scorpius said.

"Not now," Jothee said. "But I'm coming for you."

"Of course," Scorpius said. "Now, if you might, follow me. I know a path out of this base."

"I'm not leaving without my men," Jothee said.

Scorpius sighed. Luxans could be troubling at the best of times and a horror the majority of the time. "How do we think we could accomplish that? We're outnumbered, Luxan."

"Sir?" Sikozu asked.

Scorpius and Jothee spun toward her. "What?"

"She is mine," Scorpius said, and said, through his teeth, "What?"

"Don't you feel it?" Sikozu said.

Pulse blasts echoed around the hallway, and Scorpius hardly acknowledged the sound. They didn't have a clear angle.

Chiana peered nervously into the panel on the machine. "Yeah. I can. And the sparks are repairing themselves. This thing is starting up again. And no, Jothee, I didn't do anything to it."

Scorpius felt his rage searing his insides.

Jothee noticed and a smile crept onto his features. "High time you felt some emotion, bastard."

Scorpius asked, "Can you fix it?"

Sikozu clambered onto the back of the machine beside Chiana. Chiana growled and bent her arms around the panel. "She isn't getting in here! She'll destroy us all!"

"Of course I won't," Sikozu said. "Let me in there, Chiana. Now."

Chiana curled her hands into fists. "Really? Let's see about that."

"Chiana!"

Chiana crouched down into a boxing stance. She appeared weird against Sikozu, at an unusual and quite inhuman angle. "Come on and challenge me."

Sikozu replied with an exasperated noise. "Sir?"

Scorpius peered down at his feet, and the writhing liquid metal. Jothee followed his gaze.

"The machine's powered up again," Scorpius said.

Jothee whispered, "Oh frell," and yelled, "Chiana! Get off, now!"

For a moment, Scorpius felt a blind terror as he raced toward the wall. The machine twitched and growled behind him, and the sheer horror of its appearance warned him that the machine was not anyone's ally. Whatever method Chiana had used, or whatever method Banikstan had used to fix it, the machine went further into its bounds. Chiana screamed, Jothee growled, and Sikozu made a high, frightened noise that he had never before known could come from her.

Sikozu finally made him spin around, and he realised that he had his rifle in his hands. The machine's tentacles had picked up all three of the other people in tight metal strands that connected their wrists and ankles. Jothee's men screamed for him from behind the soldiers, and the soldiers were retreating as the machine crawled toward them.

That meant Scorpius was the only man who could challenge it. Sikozu was bent further than any of the others, and Scorpius suspected that was because she could bend to a level he had never imagined. But this angle looked horrible and dangerous, and she was better than the others.

Against all of his instincts and carefully crafted self control, Scorpius flung his gloves onto the metal floor of the base and surged as much of his monstrous strength as he dared. The heat in his skull heightened to a level he hadn't felt in a long time, and he wondered why he felt his level of fear and rage.

Scorpius wrapped his fingers around a handhold on the machine and forced himself to climb it. The metal parts of his suit attracted the machine, but with his monstrous strength Scorpius grabbed them and threw them as far as he could. They kept coming after him, but he didn't need to continue the same tactic until all eternity. He knew what he was aiming at.

He finally came to the ceiling where Sikozu was wrapped up with the steel tentacles. Scorpius yanked on them, both testing them and lessening the tension. Some of it flapped at him eagerly, and these he didn't bother with. The cords wrapped around Sikozu felt as cold as winter, and comforted his bare hands for a couple seconds. He carefully kept his eyes away from Sikozu's, not sure what emotion would surge, and realising that their connetion wouldn't accomplish anything.

The tactility of the steel had answered his question. He couldn't remove them with his own bare hands, strengthened with the blood of his Scarren half as they were. He looked down within the writhing chaos of the steel and saw the panel that Chiana had opened. She fought to reach with it, with the bottoms of her boots, and she couldn't quite get to them. Scorpius grinned at the woman's effort.

Scorpius thumped aside more of the tentacles without whirling toward them. He watched the tentacles above the panel, searching for a pattern, and he saw the smallest traces of a way in. He crouched as much as his bony skeleton could allow him, and counted the changes of the tentacles. One, two, and he jumped down beside the panel. Every tentacle in the environment thrashed toward him.

Both of his hands were bent down in front of his body, as separate and focused with as strange of an angle as he could achieve. Some tentacles grabbed his legs, others his head, and the bottoms of his feet. They couldn't keep his descent from continuing, but, as he thought, he had a single chance. The panel came into the range of his hands, and he yanked out as many cords as he could reach with both of them.

Scorpius fell onto the floor, and all the machine and the people within it fell on every side of him. The noise reminded him of the stress he had set on his body, and he touched the chamber that encased the coolant rod. It felt warmer than it had in a long time, and his fingers roared with pain. Scorpius wanted to lay on the cold floor and allow the pain to calm down.

But he had never done that. For him, his limits were the place where he began.

Scorpius looked for Sikozu, saw her, tossed the steel tentacles from her body, and lifted her onto his arms. She was breathing, but slowly, and he wasn't sure what that meant.

"Chiana," Scorpius said harshly. "Bring your boyfriend. We need to go."

The girl peered up at him, frightened. She lifted her hands to her mouth. "He's bleeding black!"

Scorpius snarled but looked at her boyfriend. The other Luxans were bringing him. He whirled around again, hunting the Luxan's ship and the hangar where other ships had been positioned.

"Can you fly it?" Scorpius said.

"If I touch the Luxan, I could," Sikozu murmured, giggling.

"You have to be quiet," Scorpius said. "You need healing."

Chiana glared at Sikozu. Scorpius was impressed that he couldn't read any aspect of the expression. "I know how," Chiana said. "We'll be seeing you again, I trust."

"In theory," Scorpius said.

"I'll find you, if I have to," Chiana said. "I have to know why you're in this sector, you bastard."

Scorpius lifted Sikozu off with a grunt and set her in one of the Marauders within the hangar. "Well, I do have a communications frequency. Hunt it down."

Chiana peered at him with her eerie eyes. "You ask so nicely," she said, and thumped Lo'Lann's doors to the floor.

Scorpius peered after her for a couple seconds and then went into the Marauder. Captain Banikstan's people were setting up their rifles outside at the same time as Scorpius set the coordinates, set his rear in the pilot's chair and escaped from the base. He chased Lo'Lann and wondered at the people within it. The Marauder's comm squeaked perhaps four microts after that.

Scorpius sighed. "Yes?"

Chiana's voice murmured quietly into the Marauder's audial transmission. "What are you doing here, Scorpius?"

Scorpius didn't answer at first, drawing the question out and thinking carefully about his words. "I have a business deal here."

Chiana chuckled, to his surprise. "Business? What business could anyone set up in a sector no one has bothered to think about in a couple centuries?"

Scorpius licked his dry lips. Behind him, in the barely-lit interior of the bare-bones Marauder, Sikozu made a soft relaxed sound. The question was not worth his attention, and so he didn't say anything.

"Ookay," Chiana said. "I suppose you have business anywhere you go, don't you? Is there a part of this galaxy where you don't know people?"

Scorpius smiled. "If I have to explain, you don't need to know."

"Oh, I do know," Chiana said. "People are interested in me, too, wherever I go. But they're very, very different reasons. Most of them have a different agenda than yours. They want my body, not my mind."

Scorpius frowned. Maybe the woman did get it.

"You're a twisted bastard, Scorpius, and you know it. But you aren't a complete mystery to everyone who you think is beneath you. Someone out there can read to the absolute bottom of your corrupted soul. I know that. But I would be frelled if I knew who that is. Certainly isn't me. See you."

The transmission popped and hissed with static, keeping Scorpius alone in the Marauder with a sleeping Kalish. Scorpius set the autopilot for a path toward his ship and glanced behind him, at Sikozu, wrapped in a tight rubber bodice. He had learned something new, and had to sort out his emotions on it.

Scorpius leaned his head on his hand and watched Sikozu's chest rise and descend calmly with the patterns of calm breathing. Watching her reassured him, bringing his high heat level and strained emotions to a saner state. With Harwalan and Captain Banikstan, he wondered if he should have became involved at all. Sikozu, had she been involved in the conversation, would have agreed with Chiana, and said Harwalan was using him.

He wondered if that was the case, and if so, to what particular purpose. He had walked into her trap, with such a flimsy motive. He had to become a player as important as either Harwalan or the Captain, but he knew so little about the sector. Harwalan had presented the basics, but he required more. Scorpius glanced at the main window anxiously, waiting to replace his rod.


	8. Chapter 8

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 8

SirNi

The planet appeared as though it was about to explode at any moment. The world was twisted and stretched out of shape. Its continents had been seared brown and scarred through a series of wars. The nuclear weaponry had created giant glass spheres across the land, and the oceans had evaporated into the sky, never again to come onto the planet in its residents' lives.

As much as she sought to keep it out of her mind, Chiana could only think of its resemblance to the planet where she, and the rest of the crew of Moya, had created a darker situation than that which had originally been. Feeling a powerful horror about what they had created, she, without the knowledge of the others, had kept careful attention on the news from that world.

The nuclear exchange that occurred had blasted both of the warring people to a state where they had both been reduced in number. She had stopped watching it, not feeling the fascination for horror like King Slug. She, and the others, had murdered a complete civilization. The discovery had made relations on Moya strained, but then, everything seemed to have that effect at some point.

She smiled, thinking of the high emotions on the ship. She missed that group, often. They were the second family she had ever had.

"Can we not destroy this world?" Chiana asked quietly.

Rimaldi, his legs crossed beside the turret, laughed. His beard rivaled Jothee, as though to counter the bare bones of his body. The contrast looked odd and always made Chiana smile. Jothee's squad was strange.

"No, I mean it," Chiana whispered. "These are my types of people."

Jothee shoved Lo'Lann's engines, and the ship bounced. The turret's chair hurt Chiana's butt.

Chiana aimed a fist at him. "Watch it, sucker!"

"Bite my sema," Jothee said.

Chiana smiled. The peripheral vision showed Rimaldi fleeing along the floor. "How about I spit it at you, then?"

Jothee hesitated, and Rimaldi laughed.

"Cheap shot!" Jothee said.

"Never been cheap," Chiana said. "I like to think I bring a high price."

Lo'Lann jerked again, and Chiana felt the chair prod her bones. "You want me to come up there?"

"Not really," Jothee said.

Chiana grabbed the restraints from her body, first the left, then the right, and walked to the front of the ship. Jothee peered up at her, his expression unusually unreadable.

"We're almost on land," Chiana said.

Jothee peered at the controls again and nodded. "You want to run through the introductions?"

Chiana nodded. Her muscles strained, and she tilted her head to the side.

"Two... one... you're on," Jothee said.

"Unknown craft, show your identity and your priority," said a computer voice.

Though she was a thief, she was not a subtle woman. "I am Chiana, a crew member on the ancient ship Lo'Lann."

The computer voice chuckled darkly. "That hunk of junk?"

Jothee started, but Chiana replied. "Don't challenge us. She's stronger than she appears."

"We're aren't in the business to challenge people and shoot them from the sky," the computer voice said. "That's for the damn Sebaceans. We're criminals, and we know who you are, Chiana."

"That's what I wanted to hear," Chiana said.

"You're a former prisoner of the Peacekeepers," replied the computer voice. "Are you sure you want to be exposed?"

"You're concerned for me?" Chiana said. "Thank you, but it's no problem."

"Apparently you have a motive," the voice said. "You're cleared."

"Thank you," Chiana said. "Jothee, conclude the connection."

Jothee cranked a lever down. "He was concerned about you?"

"You know what he was getting at," Chiana said.

"The Nebari are on the planet?"

"Oh yeah," Chiana said. "But that, as you know, is the point."

Jothee smiled.

The capitol city appeared more in the window of Lo'Lann, and Chiana realised she could really find it enjoyable down there. The city was as twisted and blasted as the other parts of the planet, but the criminals had altered it into a place where they felt they could fit in with their attitudes. The city was precisely created for the urges that stirred Chiana.

Lo'Lann arrived in the hangar, and Chiana fled out the door first and obtained her first concept of the city. New places fascinated her, and she wanted to get the idea before anyone could alter her ideas.

With her first impression Chiana saw a jumble, similar and different to other places in the galaxy. To her complete surprise, tall downtown buildings loomed on the horizon. In such a crowd of outlaws, she hadn't thought to find anything with a dominant presence which buildings of that type almost always incited in a person. She gazed up at them in the distance for a moment, and then went back to the street.

Neither the downtown nor the street had been polished like the Nebari homeworld. They appeared grungy and well used, to a level where it seemed that everything on the world was made of dust and soot. Grey specks stuck to any surface, whether wood or metal, and on most of the people. None of them seemed concerned about it. Some of the people, walking in the shadows, seemed completely natural in it.

Chiana felt a grin creeping across her face. Oh yes. These were her people. She rubbed her halter on the steel wall of the hangar, merging with the city. Jothee motioned his crew, and Arla, out of the Luxan ship, and peered at her sidewise. Chiana swept her fingers across her eyes, painting them with dust.

"What are you doing?" Jothee asked.

Chiana sighed happily and opened her arms onto the city. Two or three dozen people walked on the sidewalk with them, and no one seemed to notice. Chiana noticed that most of them carried guns as giant as Jothee's Qualta blade. "I like it here. I want to become one with this place."

Jothee kept his eyes busy, without showing his curiosity. And they kept walking. "You'll stand out."

"You don't get it, Jothee. You haven't seen as much of the galaxy as I have," Chiana said. "No one stands out here. Crichton had a phrase for these places. A wretched hive?"

"A wretched what?"

Chiana laughed. "That's a word from Earth."

"But you can't take the chance," Jothee said.

"You do not say that," Chiana said.

Jothee grinned. "I'll learn."

"Crazy Luxan," Chiana said. "You think you're always right. You won't learn." Sheyangs and Relgarians walked around them, and a Sheyang shoved Chiana's shoulder. She shoved him back, lightly, and the Sheyang roared with a cackle.

"Maybe I'm different," Jothee said.

Chiana stepped in his path and bent her head down. Though she watched Jothee, she kept an eye on people behind him. A tall, bright purple guy, whose species she had never seen, made her think of an idea. "You'll stand out."

"I don't get you," Jothee said.

"Good, that's how it should be," Chiana said.

"Listen, lady. Get your mind in gear," Jothee said. "Any idea how we can find an informant?"

Chiana shrugged. "Oh, no problem."

"What do you - "

Chiana crept forward and tapped the giant purple guy on the forearm. "Guten morgen. Might I have a word with you?"

The guy's skin appeared and felt as rough as a tree. His eyes were tiny and black, a contrast to his eight feet. "Yes? What do you want?"

She kept her head down but moving. "I'm looking for a particular merchant, and wondered if you could tell me his location."

Jothee walked up, his Qualta blade across his shoulder. He didn't say anything, and Chiana nodded in approval.

The purple guy waved a hand. "I might be able to contribute. Who do you want?"

"Misch," Chiana said.

"Ah," the purple guy said. "You're looking for that?"

"Ja," Chiana said.

He rolled his eyes for a second and then nodded. "Zieren dabasalen."

"Thanks!" Chiana said. "That's quite friendly of you."

"If you need me once more, don't hesitate to inquire," said the purple guy, and started to walk away.

Jothee gestured at the purple guy, without talking.

"He's a secret society member," Chiana said. "Crichton and me designed it."

"When was that?"

Chiana shrugged bashfully. "We got drunk and danced, and, before we were aware of it, we had what Crichton said was a conga line. The station had the leftovers of a star or something flying around it, and everyone thought Crichton had arrived to rescue them from mental slavery. So they became our pupils. And that guy was one of them."

Jothee scratched his beard. "Star leftovers?"

"A Budong ate one and puked some elements of it."

The purple guy walked out of their visual range and became another of the crowd in the city. Chiana and Jothee spun around and saw that Trasna and Rimaldi were watching them, but from a distance. Jothee gestured them to come back and they left the store by which they had been standing. "I was thinking about the mental slavery."

"Only a rumor, while we had been drunk," Chiana replied.

"When did you create this secret society?" Jothee said. "Where?"

Chiana peered at Jothee. Her muscles tensed and her shoulders thrust back. "We were drunk. I don't remember."

"Could be only coincidence," Jothee said. "Are you sure it wasn't a manufactured hallucinogen?"

Chiana laughed. "Don't worry about it. In this galaxy, you step more than an inch or a pair and you find a twist on your world. Almost as weird as Earth. I swear, that planet was the strangest thing I have seen in my life."

"Well, someone is manufacturing hallucinogens," Jothee said.

"Yeah," Chiana replied. "I don't know why, or what she's doing with them."

"Let's hope we find out."

Chiana crept toward a store that the purple guy had suggested she go and peruse. She gestured Jothee toward it, and his squad followed him.

"This is certainly a beginning," Chiana said, and opened the door before he could reply.

Chiana had stepped into a store that, at the same time, terrified her and fascinated her. Writhing, slender animals squirmed in cages built with a translucent material that, when she looked around them, had no breathing holes. Gleaming steel rods with sharp segments on the tips appeared like they could be suitable for yanking apart panels in a Leviathan. She didn't have any idea what she had found.

The store looked like it had more space on the inside than the outside, but she didn't think it was a twist in reality or anything like that. The place simply kept that many strange things in its collection. She slowly walked toward one clothes stand on the wall, with a range of black and red bodices. She lifted her eyebrows, pulled her left glove from her hand, and touched all of the fabrics, one after the other.

The outside felt like tough leather, and the inside felt soft.

"Chiana!" Jothee yelled.

Chiana whirled around, holding the favored bodice.

Jothee grinned. "You appear distracted."

"Buy my orinashi bodice, might you?" asked a soft voice from the interior of the store.

Chiana peered around cautiously. "What? Who said that?"

"The counter, you locate," the voice said. "See you, I might want."

"What do you think?" Chiana asked, lifting the bodice. "Do you like it?"

Jothee's eyes widened. "Looks nice."

His expression said more than his words ever did. Chiana grinned and walked around the store to locate the counter. She made a soft gasp when she saw who stood behind it. The brows and mustache resembled Rygel enough to disturb her, but the length and position of its arms were enough to show her quickly that no, this was not Rygel, and had never been him. This guy's arms were long and lanky, and sat on the edge of its sled.

The shopkeeper smiled, that expression eerily similar to Rygel's, too. "Someone different, were you looking for?"

"You remind me of an old friend," Chiana said.

"Know where he is, you don't?" asked the shopkeeper.

Chiana walked up to the counter, set the bodice down and nodded. "We were going to follow him to his homeworld, and probably yours, but became a little distracted."

The shopkeeper's arms waved at her, anxious for its money. Chiana grabbed a couple credits and the shopkeeper grinned cheerfully. Some species traits just didn't have any variations. "Others of your species, there are."

Chiana felt Jothee and rolled her head toward him. "You know of them."

"Many things, do I know," the shopkeeper said. "You, I know of. Him, I know of."

Chiana lifted her eyebrows. "What do you know?"

The shopkeeper angled the sled right in front of her face. She barely held in the urge to grab his earbrows and rub them. If he was anything like Rygel, he loved that. "I know you resist your species."

"Do you," Chiana said, grinning.

"Threat, your resistance is," the shopkeeper said. "Their people to be soft, and easily led, they need. Topple them without much trouble, could an uprising."

"I should get to starting, and you aren't going to stop me, right?" Chiana said.

"With you, I feel," the shopkeeper said. "An eye out, you must keep."

"That's all the advice you have for me?" Chiana said. "I appreciate that, really."

The shopkeeper's eyebrows lifted and his hands motioned, a trace, behind her. Chiana spun around and saw a Nebari's white-grey hair and black leather outfit. "He's over there!" she screamed. "Get him!"

"Huh?" asked Rimaldi.

"I don't see anyone," Jothee replied.

Chiana grabbed the shopkeeper and growled, in his face, "What's your game, wheatbuck?"

The shopkeeper squealed in fear. "Saw her, I saw. Outside, she watches."

Chiana startled. "She?" Chiana growled. "She's outside? You set us up?"

"Didn't, did I, didn't, did I," said the shopkeeper. "Eye on the street, she has."

"Watching this store?" Chiana said.

"Other store!" the shopkeeper groaned. "This one, no!"

Chiana spun around.

Jothee grinned, blade in his hand. "On it. Let's get to it, girl."

Chiana peered at the shopkeeper, sitting where she had dropped him. He was sitting in his sled. "I had a vision. You're aware of my sight. I'm remembering you, and where you are. I'm figuring out who you are."

"Uprising," the shopkeeper hissed. The noise resembled an old, maniacal laugh.


	9. Chapter 10

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 10

SirNi

The rooftops towered with their invitation, but she had to run on the streets at first, with her boyfriend several steps behind her. They kept away from each other, not the result of any conflict but a better way to scout the territory. Chiana's vision, and the shopkeeper, had nudged them in this direction, but as usual for a mystical source, neglected to say anything else about the Nebari's position.

She wasn't sure which was more troublesome, the vision or the shopkeeper's awareness of her weird psychic powers. For a long time, after she had met Crichton brewing alcohol and searching for Aeryn on the ancient leviathan, Chiana had been able to slow down time on her own command. It made her blind for a short time, which increased with every usage. As usual with such problems, she continually found the need to use it.

However, she had never had a vision and seen the future.

Chiana warily eyed the people and the sidewalk. Where was the Nebari? The shopkeeper's warning stayed in her mind, even though she tried to ignore its presence. What had he meant? Could he see the future, like she had? Had his words been prophetic, or was he not aware of his own truth?

Glimpses of black and grey darted out of the edge of her peripheral sight. It walked toward an alley forty feet away. She grabbed the leathery flesh in front of her and leapt up to get a glance. The Nebari stared at her, eyes wide, and began running. The black eyes and white hair and electronic gear appeared familiar. Chiana thought about it, and then remembered who she was.

She had glimpsed Varla, one of the Nebari who had ambushed Moya's crew. She had controlled Rygel and Aeryn. Aeryn, without all of her self control and fury, was terrifying, and Chiana hoped she would never glimpse anything like that again. Chiana motioned at Jothee and told him he should follow. Jothee nodded sharply.

Chiana crept into a closeby alley and climbed up the stairs to the roof. She hopped across the chasm between the buildings and peered around, watching for Varla. Chiana barely saw the woman's white hair and leapt between another chasm. Varla spun around. Chiana ducked, staying away from the woman's view. Varla continued forward.

Varla didn't have a particular path, as far as Chiana figured. She seemingly realised she was being tailed, probably because Chiana had exposed the idea by leaping up in the crowd, and the only intention seemed to involve escaping the tail. Chiana was an old hand about the tactic, and she stayed on her.

Neither of them tired for fifteen minutes. Varla led Chiana into an eerie part of the city. It seemed way too silent, and the buildings had not been maintained. Litter laid everywhere, and the homeless people stared up at Chiana. Chiana started to worry, and wondered if perhaps she should leave and search for Varla at a different time. Then hands touched her back.

Chiana grabbed her enemy's neck, wringing her hands around it. Jothee said, "Gaah", and pulled her hands off.

"You've been chasing her for way too long," Jothee said. "She's smart. Too smart. Leave it alone for the moment."

Chiana frowned. "Varla's contact could be here."

"Varla?"

"Varla."

"Someone took her down."

"Yeah," Chiana said. "That was Varla. That's bizarre, but I know her. She frightened me, and I don't forget the faces of people who frighten me."

"Do you think she escaped?" Jothee said.

"You know what I think? I think she's an unrealized reality," Chiana said. "Remember what Crichton said about me as Aeryn?"

Jothee thought about it. Then he peered down at the alley. "Where do you think she went, Chiana?"

"Huh what?" Chiana said.

"We have to find her," Jothee said. "I could see my father."

Chiana frowned. "Huh?"

"Chiana, where did she go?"

Chiana shook her head. "Wait a second. What are you thinking about? How would she anything to do with D'Argo?"

"My father, from another world. He could tell me what happened to him, and where he is."

"Unrealized realities don't work like that, Jothee," Chiana said. "They don't tell you what you want to find. They tell you evil things."

"Crichton used them," Jothee said. "He found what he wanted."

Chiana frowned. "Yeah. He did. But he paid a price."

"Any price is worth knowing where my father is," Jothee said.

Chiana frowned. "Do you know what you're saying?"

Jothee didn't reply.

Chiana breathed in. "She's in this alley. This is a dark place."

"I can stand dark," Jothee said.

Chiana nodded. "All right."

Chiana hadn't known how focused he was on his father until that guess brought all of his emotions to the front. While they continued further into the dark alley, his thoughts roamed across his face. Like his father, he showed all of his emotions on his face, and she hadn't seen a series quite as intense as this. Upon glancing at him, she saw that she had to look away.

The alley's secrets opened to her as she roamed around within it.

The neighborhood's secrets opened to her as she roamed around within it. As before, Jothee waited behind her, but this time he stayed in visual range. Chiana crept onto the rooftops, the fire escapes, and peeked around and into the apartments and business locations. A worn printing press sat on benches and tables in one of them, and she gestured Jothee to look at it.

Jothee blinked at her, uncertain what she meant. Chiana sighed in exasperation and, without saying anything, crept into it. Jothee closed the door as silently as he could, which, for the age of the location and a Luxan, wasn't astonishing. Chiana noticed it only idly, her attention on the printing press. It had been a designer of paranoid magazines, apparently, describing a goal of the Peacekeepers to enslave the sector.

Some of the Uncharteds already had become that, Chiana thought, and didn't bring up the idea. Jothee was especially sensitive about slavery, working under a cruel master for a long time and watching innumerable Baniks fall at Scorpius's command. Scorpius poked her mind again, the fact that he had rescued them from Captain Banikstan. It disturbed her.

Then she saw Varla, in the back hallway of the business.

Chiana pointed one of her fingers, in a tight black glove, at the woman. "Varla. Hezmana are you doing here?"

Initially, Chiana didn't see the difference between the Varla that stood in the printing press and the Varla she had seen on Moya four years ago. She wondered if she was genuinely the same person. The electronics snaked down the right side of her face, she had the huge black eyes she had had, and she had the same clothing. She looked precisely the same.

As subtle as the difference appeared, it answered the unrealized reality origin of this woman, and created questions that represented another history. Varla's arms, and face, had scratches. They resembled those of an addict of syringes. Her face, her cheeks, jaw, nose and eyes had the miniature white scars. Against Nebari colors, the injuries barely showed up.

Varla stood between the light and shadows. "You chased me here."

"Tell me anyway!" Chiana said.

"I'm not from here," Varla said.

"You're from another universe," Chiana said.

"I'm from Nebari," Varla said.

"Don't you know what I'm saying?" Chiana said.

Varla smiled and set a hand on the pistol on her hip. "I get it. You miss me, Chiana. You miss us."

Chiana retreated and felt her muscles relax. "I went away because I didn't want anything to do with you ever again. Don't you get that?"

Jothee set a hand on Chiana's arm. "Calm down."

Chiana tore her arm from his grip. "We're talking with a Nebari! I am not calming down!"

Varla smiled. "Are you cleansed, Luxan? You never talk of calming yourself."

"Be quiet," Jothee said.

"You're a hypocrite?" Varla said.

Chiana growled at Varla. "Drensucker. Shut up."

"The Luxan's right, Chiana," Varla said. "You should be silent. Follow me." She crept further in the dark hallway, seeking a door whose light barely glimmered. "Not that that had to be a command."

The blade Jothee held in his hands murmured into life. "Hold on. Where are you going?"

"I want a walk," Varla said. "Aren't you intrigued?"

The blade aimed at Varla's chest. "I'm not done talking with you."

Varla laughed quietly and a small smile widened. "I suggest you don't shoot me with that, Luxan."

"You got a Sheyang belly or something?" Jothee said.

"Of course not. I'm not a grotesque amphibian," Varla said. "No. I'm a species far different than that, and dangerous with a very different style."

Chiana watched Varla carefully. "What do you mean?"

"You aren't really listening to her," Jothee said. "She's an Establishment member!"

Throughout the conversation, Varla held the smile on her face. She obviously wasn't worried, or hadn't brought up the idea. She didn't seem like the type of woman to wear any type of armor, preferring flexibility. She had another tactic. But what was it?

"Neither of you have ever known about the psionic ability of a Nebari. Don't worry. I won't tell you all that we're able to achieve. I'll let you know the important power: that I can back up the blast from that weapon you hold, and shoot it right into your own chest. You can imagine the result of such a weapon at that range."

"She can't do that," Jothee said.

"She isn't fooling around," Chiana said. "Don't shoot her. You'll let us follow you outside?"

"Of course. I said I would," Varla said.

Jothee growled and stared at Chiana. "Are you mind cleansed?"

Chiana's hands rolled into fists. "I'm not. I never will be, again."

"My father said he would never be a prisoner again," Jothee said.

Chiana circled Jothee. She wasn't completely aware how she was acting. "I know that. Jothee. Do not bring that up."

Jothee backed up some steps. "All right. We'll follow her."

The tension stayed. Varla set up a trap of a sort, Chiana suspected, and she would need the heightened awareness when she fought against, probably, a squad of Nebari. "Hold your rifle in position. I have no idea about the trap she set, but she's probably the only person with that ability."

"Are you sure?" Jothee said.

Chiana laughed. "If they all have that power, this galaxy is in trouble."

"What are you saying? The walls between realities are falling?" Jothee said.

"They're probably the reason," Chiana said.

Jothee shivered. Varla had walked out the door. Chiana followed her, quickly, wanting to see the trap and get the anticipation done. She found her way outside some steps in front of Jothee, and saw a series of aliens on both sides of the back alley. Chiana walked right across the middle of the alley, between all of their rifles. She got in front of Varla's face.

"Tell me the plan," Chiana said. "Abduct? Murder? Cleanse here and now?"

"In truth," Varla said. "I'm happy with you simply leaving and walking out of here."

Chiana glared at Varla. This Varla was not anything like the Varla from Moya.

"Chiana, I wasn't the one who sought to create this rivalry," Varla said. "You're a traitor. There are more important things out there."

"I certainly am not able to overpower you here," Chiana said. "My life is valuable, and you realise that. How about I roam around the sector and get a hold of you?"

"We'll cleanse you then," Varla said. "I'm not in a hurry, Chiana. I'm a Nebari. I never am."

"What is your plan?" Chiana said. "Cleanse every person in this sector?"

"Well, who might possibly be able to stop us?" Varla said.

Chiana growled. "What if I stabbed you, right here?"

"We have ways around that," Varla said.

Chiana began to reply, but a soft electronic sound attracted her attention.

Chiana and Jothee glanced at Jothee's comm. Varla rolled her eyes. "... in orbit ... it's watching us ... waiting ... attacking ..."

"Seems like you have a stronger concern," Varla said. "Shall we wait?"

"Your people need a reply," Chiana whispered, and thrust her head upward. "I'll hunt you, Varla."

Varla retreated with a grin. Chiana peered around, and noticed the bounty hunters also vanishing into the streets of the neighborhood. She wondered whether Varla had bought them out, or whether they were her personal guards. Unless this Varla had a higher rank than the first, that didn't sound like the answer. None of them had been Nebari, though several of them had worn armor that kept their features indistinguishable. One of the bounty hunters, flesh apparently created from scarlet brick, winkedat her. She whirled a leg around, for the fun of it.

"What are they saying?" Chiana said.

"You don't want to hear this," Jothee said. "They found a beacon on Lo'Lann, on the bottom of the ship."

Chiana slowly left the alley, creeping into the printing press doorway again. "All right."

"It was installed after we left Earacha," Jothee said.

"You think Arla's connected with it," Chiana said.

"I said I didn't trust him," Jothee said. "And I said they should drop him off at a space station."

Chiana stared at him, rage building in her mind. "Why would you do that?"

"The situation in this sector is becoming dangerous," Jothee said. "We're in the center, and Scorpius. Do you really think he wants to be in on it?"

"You're forcing him to be alone, then?" Chiana said.

"You're seeing it the wrong way, Chiana."

Chiana growled. "You're telling me I'm wrong? When you're betraying a man who's come in our protection?"

"He's not in our protection!"

"Not by our choice. But he is, anyway."

"Chiana," Jothee said, his soft voice louder.

Chiana peered at him, thoughts roaming across her mind. He resembled his father in personality and appearance, though he hadn't balanced the traits. And he also made her furious.

Jothee knew he was pushing her, and stepped back. Chiana noticed his retreat, and swung at him.


	10. Chapter 11

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 11

SirNi

The liquid felt reassuring in its warmth and loosened his thoughts. He pondered the personality of Harwalan, the appearance of Chiana, the powerful fury of Jothee, and D'Argo, who had sacrificed his life that his friends, with a man who sought to tell the truth and now questioned all the things he had fought to achieve, could escape and initiate the conclusion of the Scarren Empire. The Scarrens had not fallen, but they had been temporarily stopped.

Though he sought to keep his thoughts from the subject of his enemies, they always returned, and Scorpius wondered how Braca would react to the war in this sector. Few species walked into Tormented Space of their own accord, and Moya's crew had only escaped into it for a lack of other options. Scorpius himself felt a surge of fascination at their choice, for that many wormholes, in that one place.

Whether Braca followed him, with an army or not, Scorpius had the idea that Harwalan wouldn't let him come. Harwalan might counter him with that mysterious ship, or create a tight quarantine, or think up an excuse which involve an issue with the Peacekeepers. Perhaps she might inflict the hallucinogens on the people in the sector, or her own soldiers, and warn Braca from the sector. He wouldn't believe her, but politically, he wouldn't have a choice.

Braca appreciated politics.

Scorpius moaned as the chemical touched his sexual parts. He had removed all of his clothes to relax in the vat. The coolant system detached with difficulty, but the rod stayed in his head. He never glanced at his reflection that way, and Sikozu carefully didn't turn around. Nonetheless, even his body needed air sometimes. The substance stayed on him like glue. He remembered Phrexari's frightening usage of that.

Sikozu ahemed.

A weird noise crawled out of his larnyx.

Sikozu laughed. "Getting a reading."

"Who is it?" Scorpius said. "Where is it?"

Sikozu leaned toward the monitor, positioned so she hid it from his sight. In place of it he got a good look at her neck. She wore the high collar down, and he saw the muscles strain.

"She's found us, hasn't she?"

"She's there, Scorpius," Sikozu whispered, "and she isn't cloaked. She hasn't communicated yet."

"Harwalan's waiting for me, Sikozu." Scorpius leapt out of the vat and got into his suit, tugging his right leg. The substance stayed on him, and he saw difficulty in making it clean. "Get this vat in the cargo compartment."

"I don't need orders from - "

Scorpius snarled. "Get it in there."

Sikozu growled and stood up from the chair. She walked to the vat, not peering at Scorpius. The rubber suit looked evil, unusually, and shone in the lights in the Iresa. "You owe me one, Scorpius."

"Sure, all right." Scorpius yanked on the suit, ran forward and clicked the button for the comm. "Malahati Harwalan, I'm glad you arrived."

"Yes, thank you," Harwalan said. "How are you?"

"This sector pleases me," Scorpius said. "I've been researching."

"What, if I can ask?" Harwalan said.

Scorpius smiled. "The Scarren Empire."

"The usual," Harwalan said. "Would you think more work would be a bother?"

"What might that be?" Scorpius said.

Harwalan said, "You'll be under a secrecy agreement. Might I have permission for entry on the Iresa?"

Scorpius frowned. "Of course, Malahati. I would find it a pleasure."

Harwalan's light laugh said the truth of their conversation.

"I'll find a shuttle for you," Scorpius said.

"I have my own," Harwalan said. "Please open the hangar."

Scorpius peered around for Sikozu. She lifted her hands, like picking up the vat, and grinned.

"The hangar has now opened," Scorpius said.

Harwalan laughed again and the comm clicked off.

Scorpius looked at Sikozu. "What did you do with the vat?"

"She won't find it," Sikozu said.

Little traces of panic bubbled, and Scorpius didn't like them. "But it's on the ship?"

"I couldn't shove it outside," Sikozu said.

"So she might find it," Scorpius said.

Sikozu smiled. "Oh, she won't find it."

"Where is the vat?" Scorpius said.

"Trust me, Scorpius, like you trusted me before the Peacekeeper Wars," Sikozu said.

Scorpius frowned. The coolant rod beat against his head.

"You don't have a choice," Sikozu said.

"No, I don't," Scorpius said. "I'm also in a hurry. I need some information set up in the database."

"I won't do that," Sikozu said.

Scorpius tapped the controls. "That's my duty."

"The Malahati's flying in," Sikozu said. "Which tells me of my duty."

Any other time, he would have built a second plan. Harwalan, her brillance, and, though he realised it might be the source of his ultimate destruction, his attraction to the woman, somehow stayed ahead of him Scorpius didn't know how she had able to do it, but he had to find out how. The vat was part of the strategy, but it wouldn't achieve the solution alone. "Good," Scorpius said. "You're in the role?"

Sikozu smiled. "I'm your servant, Scorpius, whenever she's around us."

Scorpius quivered as Malahati Harwalan's shuttle whapped the Iresa. When he created the ship, he had obtained an equipment series with armament meant to benefit a smuggling freighter, escape pod flying from a ship in a war zone, or shuttle fleeing from heavy orbital fire. He had hoped, but hadn't been able to, test the defensive capabilities himself. He should have, because, like a meeting with a hostile pirate vessel in the Uncharted Territories, the Mistress's shuttle had found the Iresa's weakness.

The steel structure of the Iresa, by the copilot's seat, threatened to come apart soon. Acidic infestations had appeared between the interior and exterior and made the entire section, from the bow to the airlock, dangerously worn. Scorpius wanted to replace it whenever he found a station, but Harwalan's shuttle found it first. His ship shrieked and for a horrible moment he wondered if the ship would literally rip apart and set him right in the middle of space.

Scorpius had been standing, one hand opened on the floor. Sikozu grabbed a console, her hands behind her back. Her eyes were wider than they had been for a long time. While she glanced at him, Harwalan, and four of her guards, walked into the Iresa. Harwalan's shoes made a loud click on the Iresa's floor, and Scorpius lifted his eyes.

He had not seen the expression on Harwalan's face in their other conversation, and somehow he suspected that his position made her hormones throb. She frowned, which he saw in her eyes rather than her tiny eyebrows. She seemed more intrigued than angry or nervous. Her bright red lips quirked a little. But she didn't seem strictly happy. Was she disappointed? Or contemptuous? He wasn't able to place the emotion.

Harwalan, taller than him anyway, said, "Scorpius. Perhaps you do not require my lesson."

Scorpius stood, shoulder height against the woman. "Perhaps."

Harwalan peered up and down his body. "Yet, Scorpius, you appear to ask for it."

Scorpius frowned. "I'm only interested if you are, Malahati."

"Not at the moment," Harwalan said. "I have research that I want you to run."

"And that might be?" Scorpius said.

Harwalan walked toward the Iresa's computer console, heels clicking on the floor. Scorpius brushed her left arm, which he had never felt. The white material of Harwalan's suit, blinding in a strong light, felt as rough as old leather. Scorpius wasn't sure how, but Harwalan seemingly removed all of the imperfections of the material. Harwalan knew Scorpius had touched her, and turned around.

Scorpius realised he had done something improper. The coolant rod thumped against the inside of his head. Rather than the usual anger, this time he felt exhaustion and a need to remove the rod. While he lifted a hand to his head, Harwalan walked toward him and punched him in the neck. That wasn't quite it, he thought, as he toppled on the floor. He was oblivious for a moment, and then pulled himself up on a knee.

"You knocked me off my feet," Scorpius said.

Harwalan stared at him, furious. On one finger, underneath his eyes, sat a small, sticky material. The material, which had fallen from the vat, appeared like a radioactive green blob. Barely an inch in size, it nonetheless looked glaring on Harwalan's glove.

"You touched me, and you stained me," Harwalan said.

Scorpius, within the ache, realised that she didn't know it had been from the vat. She might never have had a glimpse of the material. That presented him with an advantage, but at the moment he had anything but. "I won't do that again," Scorpius said. "I promise, Mistress Harwalan."

Harwalan brushed the material toward him. He looked to his chest and grinned.

"Don't say that, Scorpius. You know, like me, that you never hold to them. But I will tell you this. If you break that one you'll obtain the lesson," Harwalan said. "On your feet, Scorpius. I have other business than the research, and we have been too long in your little ship."

Scorpius stood up and leaned against the back of the pilot's chair. She exaggerated the final phrase, and he thought she did it to get his rage up. She did. "What do you have for me?"

Harwalan tapped several buttons on the console, concluded with a loud thump, and turned around and faced Scorpius. Her eyes looked straight at him, but he couldn't see inside the folds of skin around them. Harwalan crossed her arms, and for a moment her hands seemed to whirl around like liquid. Many of her guards were fish. Might she have similar traits in her lineage? That seemed too obvious.

"Pay attention," Harwalan said.

Scorpius smiled. "My attention is completely on you, Mistress."

"On me, or my words?" Harwalan said.

"Every part," Scorpius said.

Harwalan shook her head and made a quiet, almost innocent laugh. "You are second only to Crichton in the legends across the Uncharted Territories, Scorpius. Are you as legendary in the sexual conquests?"

"Crichton rarely asserts dominance," Scorpius said. "Woman assert dominance over him far more often, and it's amusing to see."

"The legends I know of say the reverse," Harwalan said. "That is fascinating." Her hands settled from squirming, and, underneath the unstained white suit, Harwalan's muscles tensed. Her appearance became colder and meaner. "You are distracting me, Scorpius. I have had enough of these games."

"What are my orders?" Scorpius said.

"You left the Peacekeepers, and you think as a soldier nonetheless," Harwalan whispered. "That might be useful in your project. Reports from my spies deep in Banikstan's fleet have warned me that several Luxans and a Nebari left a fifth of his primary base in complete disarray after they were rescued by a pair of unknown mercenaries. Your quest is to discover who these invaders are, and see if you might recruit them."

The coolant thumped its liquid into Scorpius's weary skull. "I'm only a new recruit. Why not send someone else?" He prowled his memory for her guards's names. "Why not Ceranne? Or Lerash?"

Harwalan grinned, and Scorpius felt her tighten her trap around him. She had a plan, and he only was aware of the barest edges. What did she want to do? What would he have to do to find out? "I need you to prove your worthiness. You are new, and you are known for your backstabbing habits."

Harwalan paused, and Scorpius looked desperately for a reply. Harwalan leaned, hands on knees, and smiled at him, face to face. "Bring them in, Scorpius, or you will find that I consider you a traitor."

"And the punishment for treason is always death," Scorpius said.

"Bring them in, Scorpius," Harwalan said.

Though he hardly imagined how he might accomplish such a thing, Scorpius agreed to her request. "Yes, I will, Malahati Harwalan."

Some steps to his back, Sikozu made a noise, like a giggle.

Harwalan frowned at Sikozu, and Scorpius heard silence. "The same for you."

For a moment, no one made a noise. Then Harwalan stood up, brushed her knees, and walked to the transport.

"You said you had several things," Scorpius said. "That was only a single one."

Harwalan smiled. "You have a vat in here, with my chemicals. Do not interfere with my business again. You have one more chance." Harwalan peered into the transport. "That's assuming that you prove that you are not a traitor, and I admit I do not know if you are able to do that. I might meet you again, Scorpius, or I might not." She walked into the transport and, a moment after that, disconnected from the Iresa.

Parts and paneling fell again, some of them on Scorpius. He sighed.

"Might I have your thoughts, Sikozu?"

"She owns you, and you are very frelled."

"There's always another way," Scorpius said.

Sikozu peered at the hole where the transport left. "If she knows?"

"If she knows," Scorpius said. "We're not turning ourselves in, so we have one option. We have to find Jothee, Chiana and the Luxans."

Scorpius grabbed the pilot's seat and lifted himself. He hadn't realised how much Harwalan wore him out. If he had ever used up rods as fast as he was now, he would be surprised. The green substance dripped to the floor, reminding him that Harwalan knew what he had been doing. He had to be more careful, or risk finally reaching the conclusion of his strength. Even Crichton hadn't been able to defeat him. Nor High Command.

Could Harwalan do it?


	11. Chapter 12

**Political Constraints and Chemical Floods**

Chapter 12

SirNi

Neither of them had started a fight in a while, and Jothee thought it reassuring to return to the old traditions. Chiana shrilled in her battle fury, much different than the low moan she made during sexual activities. He thought it pleasurable. At first. Then her fist, hard enough to begin with but even more in that tight rubber glove, rammed up against his nose, and he reeled away from the blow.

The Nebari had become a tough girl since the Wars. Jothee bellowed in his fury, rushed toward her and began the fight in truth. She had, as he had thought, expected such a move, and dodged from the first couple punches. She was a flexible woman, useful in so many instances, but Jothee, since the Wars, had become a professional mercenary like his father. He glimpsed a soft point, yanked her wrist as she pulled from him, and, gauging from her expression, she heard the same snap as him.

Chiana held her wrist in her left hand, dangling in the rubber, and stared at him. She didn't say a word, though Jothee noticed her larynx moving. She looked like a creature he never seen nor had the ability to understand at that point. But she still looked tough, and not even the barest trace of small. He saw her as simply someone to be tamed, and rushed toward her, fists wild.

The Nebari ducked and vanished. Jothee felt a couple of fingers curl around his scrotum, and simply stopped moving. He stared straight ahead. "You win."

The Nebari didn't let her grip lessen. "I sort of enjoy it down here."

"You don't, usually."

The Nebari's reply was a sound of pure amusement. "You see, I'm on top." She gripped tighter, to show him the point.

The world became white for a moment. Jothee clenched his mouth against the pain, and his tongue uncoiled like a sentient thing inside it. He would not scream out, he told himself, and then the pain calmed down into a groaning ache. Chiana loosened her hold, though she still didn't take her fingers away.

"I comprehend your point," Jothee said. "Could you please?"

Chiana stood up from the ground, and only when she was on her feet did she let her hold go. She brushed her pants and bodice of the debris from the ground, peered around his shoulders and smiled at him. "Are you feeling better, man?"

Jothee sat on the ground and bent his head down.

Chiana was quiet for a moment, then walked around him. "Stay sharp. There's someone walking toward us. He looks like a fish with arms and legs."

Jothee bent his head up and squinted. Whoever it was, he had some bad timing. "We're not in the city limits."

"Some people don't like them," Chiana said scornfully. "Or he could be interested in us, particularly. Let's hope he isn't with security."

"Because of a domestic disturbance?" Jothee said.

Chiana sounded more cheerful. "Hey, everyone needs a lover's fight at some point."

"But you grabbed my scrotum."

"Hey, you think that's interesting, I had way more fun with D'Argo. You Luxans sometimes - "

Jothee lifted his head. "Chiana."

Chiana paused. "Oops."

"The guy on his way?" Jothee said.

"Yeah. He's in shouting range, if we want," Chiana said.

"No, I've got an idea," Jothee said. "I can stay sitting here. Let him talk to us, if he wants."

"Do you want me to do anything?" Chiana said.

"Do what you do," Jothee said.

Chiana lifted her hands to her mouth and shouted, "Hey, fish dude!"

Jothee sighed, stretched his legs in front of him, and looked as upbeat as he could. Chiana's grip had been strong, and he ached like no tomorrow. He glanced ahead to where the man was on his way to meet them. The figure was a yellow, bloated fish, with long arms and legs. What looked similar to a wetsuit was molded onto his features and showed more of his body than Jothee would have preferred. His eyes were widely spaced, but they were alert, and looked straight ahead at them.

"Hello," said the fish, when he came into voice range. "I'm here to make a deal."

Jothee squinted and shook his head. "Who are you?"

The fish smiled, and the appearance unsettled him. "I know who you are."

Chiana loosened her arms again. She was still excited from the fight with him. Jothee didn't bother to restrain her. This could be useful. "Don't threaten us."

"Chiana, one of the few who left the Establishment and survived to tell her tale," said the fish. "I applaud your efforts, but you might have finally bit off more than you can chew."

Chiana stared down at the fish's crotch. "I've bit a lot of things. Sometimes hard enough to break them off."

The fish gulped, and appeared, for a second, ready to hurl on the street. "I don't doubt it."

'What is this deal?" Jothee said. "And who are you? Tell us or leave."

"I am Lerash." The fish hesitated, surprised at their lack of recognition. "I am one of the most trusted servants of the Malahati." His jaw dropped when Jothee shook his head. "Do you know of the Malahati, the greatest businesswomen in this sector?"

"No," Jothee said. "Should we?"

"You should. She knows of you," Lerash said. "I am currently on a temporary leave. Were she to know I am speaking with you privately, without authorization, she would teach me a lesson."

Jothee shrugged. "Okay. Tell me about this deal."

Chiana circled the fish, toward his flank. One of Lerash's eyes moved toward her. The second focused on Jothee and its eyelid lowered a little. He was becoming arrogant, cocky, and thought he had the upper hand. Maybe he did.

"I want you to find someone for me," Lerash said. "I can offer you money."

Chiana's lips crept into a slow grin. "How much money?"

"How much do you charge for investigations?" asked Lerash.

Chiana tested the waters. "A thousand a day, plus expenses." Jothee looked down at the ground, imitating a pain he didn't have to imitate at all, to hide his astonishment. They charged a hundred and fifty to three hundred at the most, not more than twice that amount.

"Seven hundred and fifty," Lerash said.

"Eight hundred," Chiana said.

"Seven hundred and seventy five," Lerash said.

"Deal," Chiana said. "What are we looking for?"

"You are looking for a pair of mercenaries," Lerash said, and pulled a pair of photographs from his wetsuit. "They go by the names Feiraim and Gehimma."

Jothee took both of them. They were both ugly to his senses. They stood on top of a rock with a statue of a Sebacean warrior on top of it, but he had never seen the location. One, a Sebacean with a pebbly streak of skin on the left side of her face, had a green and black leather outfit and a belt with gadgets. The other was a huge hulk of a person with a tight black rubber suit and a nightstick. Only its head stuck out of the suit, and that looked Sebacean.

"The one on the left is Feiraim, the one is the right is Gehimma. I need to send them a message, but I cannot do so myself. The Malahati would not appreciate my correspondence with them," Lerash said.

"Tell me the message," Jothee said.

"Tell them we must meet at the second location in the secure part of the sector," Lerash said.

"They will understand that?" Jothee said.

"They will," Lerash said. "When you've done so, contact me."

"How will we do that?" Jothee said.

"I will make myself known," Lerash said.

Jothee shrugged. "Okay. If you don't, it's your message, I guess."

"Do your job, and I will see you rewarded for your efforts," Lerash said. "This is important."

"Yeah, all right," Jothee said. "That's all?"

"That's all," Lerash said. "Thank you for your time, Jothee, Chiana." He nodded to Jothee, and, cautiously, to Chiana, and left the alley without looking back at either of them. They waited to say anything until Lerash had left their sight.

Chiana talked first. "Do you think that was a weird coincidence, or am I the only one?"

Jothee lifted his eyebrows and stood up, the pain receding. He walked slowly in the other direction than Lerash, further into the desolated section of the city. Chiana led the way, and he hoped she would find the path through it. "What do you mean?"

"We meet Varla, you instruct our people to drop Arla at the closest stop, we get into a fight, and this weird fish guy comes up and offers us a job," Chiana said. "Don't you think that's really strange?"

"Our life is strange," Jothee said. "You're getting at something."

"Feels like there's a higher power pointing our lives in a specific direction," Chiana said.

"Don't go all religious on me, please," Jothee said.

Chiana cackled. "I don't mean that. I'm thinking of Captain Banikstan and this Malahati. Do you think they butt heads much?"

"If she's as powerful as Lerash said?" Jothee said. "I would bet on it."

Chiana's eyebrows lifted. "How much?"

Jothee laughed. "A substantial sum. Come on, let's get out of here." He lifted the comm to his ear and asked for his people. "Guys. Hey, guys, you there?"

Noise reached his ears, and then Trasna spoke up over Rimaldi. "We dropped him off, like you said."

"You back in orbit yet? We're on our way off the planet, and we have all sorts of things we need to tell you," Jothee said. "We've got business."

Trasna hesitated. "Uh, boss, you will have to hold off on that."

Jothee frowned. "What's wrong?"

"There's a Command Carrier in orbit," Trasna said, and Rimaldi butted in. "It's Banikstan."

Jothee whispered to Chiana, "Higher powers?" and asked Rimaldi, "He's completely barricading the planet?"

"Commandos going on the ground right now, man," Rimaldi said. "Be careful out there. We'll keep in touch."

"What the frell?" Jothee said. Chiana's eyes were wide. "You heard that?"

"What's Banikstan looking for on this planet?" Chiana said. "You and me? Something else?"

"Find a pub," Jothee said. "We have to understand what is happening."

Chiana bounced on her feet and Jothee had to run to match her pace. "I can do that."

Chiana looked up pubs using the strangest criteria. She peeked into the back alley, and, if it wasn't guarded or downtrodden enough, continued on the next. Even in this part of the city, her tastes were picky, and she left two of them in the dust before finally settling on a third. Jothee could have taken the bouncer without a thought, but Chiana smiled up at him and, suggesting things with sinuous movements, the bouncer allowed them in.

Jothee had seen her do this many times before, and if the bouncer came in and tried to call in on the favor, Chiana would do one of two things. Either she would tell Jothee to come up and kick his ass, which Jothee would be obliged to do, or she would simply avoid the bouncer for most of the night. Which she chose relied on her energy levels.

Tonight, she was hyper as hell, and Jothee curled his fists, gauging the amount of force he would need. It wouldn't be a whole lot. That bouncer was a weakling. Chiana crept up to the bartender, leaned over the bar so he could get a look that Jothee was envying about now, and set to business asking him about Sebacean activities.

After a few minutes, she ordered a few drinks, flung the bartender a good tip for his services, and walked back to the table and sat beside Jothee. She had a cautious smile on her face. What the bartender had said amused her and apparently didn't have very much down aspects to it at all.

"Spill it," Jothee said.

Chiana handed him the ra'slak. "Isn't that a bit rough for you?"

"Seedy places, you know," Jothee said.

"There's a Sebacean craft in orbit, and there are soldiers coming down on the ground," Chiana said.

"So what's the smile?" Jothee said.

"He said I'm really hot," Chiana said.

"You are," Jothee said. "That isn't all of it."

Chiana stretched on the seat and attracted some looks. "It's most of it."

"Come on," Jothee said.

"What's the problem with a good compliment?" Chiana said.

"If you want a good compliment, we can stay overnight in a damn room," Jothee said.

"I would love that," Chiana said. "But not yet. There's someone else in orbit."

"Who would that be?" Jothee said.

"Never seen the ship before, but Tplov says it's highly makeshift," Chiana said. "I don't know exactly, but my instincts tell me this is someone we know."

"Why do you think that?" Jothee said.

"Because the man's on the ground," Chiana said. "He's wearing leather and rubber armor, and a mask in the shape of peace. Corpse white face, long teeth."

"Scorpius?" Jothee said. "What the hell is he doing in this sector?"

"What is Scorpius doing anywhere?" Chiana said. "Apparently some redhead's acting as his bodyguard, and she's all dressed up in a tight rubber bodice, gloves and boots."

Jothee squinted. "What the frell?"

"Sikozu, of course," Chiana said. "In rubber? What would make her dress up like that? I want to see this. Come on, Jothee, let's find them."

"Look at it my ass," Jothee said. "You want some action."

"With Sikozu? No. You could convince me to make an exception when she's in rubber, though. Come on!" She yanked on his arm.

Jothee's eyes widened. "An exception?"

"Maybe," Chiana said.

"I'm sold. Lead on, Mistress Nebari."


	12. Chapter 13

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

SirNi

Jothee saw so much leather and rubber in his daily life that Sikozu didn't even register to him. Her rubber bodice appeared more designed for concealment and body armor than ornamentation. He had never had a particular interest in Sikozu, and so it didn't do much to him. Chiana, however, circled the woman, ready to spring, whether for pleasure or a fight, he didn't know. Perhaps, this time, they were the same thing.

Either one, if they came to blows, he would pay for what he would be watching for free.

"Your woman's changed," Jothee said.

Scorpius relaxed in a chair in a much better bar, patiently drinking an eighty-proof rana'lak. Jothee thought that Scorpius, contrary to what he would have thought, drank such liquor to dent the strength of his half-Scarren heritage. Luxans had to drink piles to have a decent stupor, and Scarrens were just as intense, if not more.

"Women change," Scorpius said.

Jothee forced down the hyper rage. He hadn't liked Scorpius from the start, and he wasn't about to start doing so now. "What do you want?"

"That is a long question," Scorpius said. "I'm figuring your woman convinced you to come here."

"I did," Chiana said. "And I doubted if I should have upon seeing you."

"You chose wisely," Scorpius said. "Do not doubt yourself, Chiana. I've come here to share information with you, before Captain Banikstan brings himself onto this world. Even, if you wish, I could spirit you back to your Lo'Lann."

"You are not worthy of saying that name," Jothee said. "You are not worthy of saying the name of a Banik." A snarl came out from deep in his throat. "This was not a good plan. Chiana, we should leave."

"No," Sikozu said.

"What do you have to do with this?" Chiana said.

"The Sebacean in control of this sector has half Banik heritage," Scorpius said. "I think that says something to us, if we but listen to its instructions."

"Since when you do listen, Scorpius," Jothee said. "You command."

"I suggest," Scorpius said. "Just as I am suggesting something now. We have something in common, the three of us."

"We not have things in common, Scorpius," Jothee said.

Scorpius smiled. His long teeth looked set to bite. "In fact, you owe me, Jothee. Without being aware of it, you owe me your life."

Jothee felt rage surging into his blood. "You murdered a thousand Baniks so you could claim John Crichton as your own! You've sacrificed thousands of your own soldiers to die for your wormhole technology!"

"I saved your life," Scorpius said. "As recently as three days ago. Do you remember your small invasion of Captain Banikstan's research facility?"

"And the man in black," Jothee said. "That was you."

"Me, and him," Sikozu said.

"Of course," Jothee said.

"Sikozu is my bodyguard. She deserves great credit for her work," Scorpius said.

"Your servant," Jothee said. "She was your equal. When did she become your servant?"

"It's a long story," Scorpius said.

"I do not trust him, and he does not trust me," Sikozu said. "But I am forced to work with him for the moment."

"I trust you are not fully angered by the circumstances," Scorpius said.

"Angry enough," Sikozu said, frowning down at him. "If I but had a whip."

"Yes, please," Scorpius said.

"Not a fun whip," Sikozu said. "There are other types."

Jothee shuddered. "Enough with the flirting!" Chiana pouted. "What do you want from us?"

"I want to work with you," Scorpius said.

"How? What are you even doing here?" Jothee said.

"This is the point in which it becomes interesting," Scorpius said. "You see, I am instructed by Malahati Harwalan, a woman whose race I do not know." He waited. Jothee's jaw dropped. Scorpius nodded. "She finds me very interesting, and I am afraid she is stronger than I alone. To overcome her, I need your assistance."

Jothee pursed his lips. "More about this Malahati, if you please."

"Yes," Scorpius said. He looked around at the ceilings and the walls, as though for bugs. Jothee felt a chill dance up his spine. "She is incredibly powerful. She controls a drug smuggling ring that may even have its tentacles in Tormented Space and the Uncharted Territories. Yet I have never heard of her. But you see... she knows who I am. And she is fascinated with me."

"This Harwalan wants you as a sex slave, and that frightens you to no end," Jothee said.

"I have been a sex slave," Scorpius said.

"I did not need to hear that."

Scorpius smiled. "Harwalan would not be a fun mistress. I know that."

Jothee shrugged. "I could let her have you."

Scorpius nodded. "Yes. But she will come after you. And she will continue to hold this power."

"Better than the Peacekeepers," Jothee said.

Chiana squinted at Scorpius. "Would she work with the Nebari?"

"I do not know," Scorpius said. "Perhaps."

"Learn that. Then I will decide whether to join this effort."

Scorpius took a long drink of the rana'lak, and Jothee took a long drink of his ras'lak. Scorpius had been waiting to expose his trump card.

"Malahati Harwalan told me to find you," Scorpius said. "Or I will become a sex slave."

"Still can't see why that's a bad thing," Jothee said. "You call her Malahati anyway."

"Malahati is a Delvian word," Chiana said. "They describe plagues with it. Combination of fear and wonder."

"Appropriate," Scorpius said. "Jothee, you have not yet seen her."

"I haven't," Jothee said. "She's looking for us."

"You see," Scorpius said. "Like me, you are unique in this sector. She likes to understand new arrivals and watch them. Nothing is beneath her eyes."

"Like East Germany," Chiana said.

"What is this East Germany?" Scorpius said.

"Earth reference, from John. They watched everything you did, everywhere you went. You had no privacy."

"Yes," Scorpius said. "We have no privacy, as long as Malahati Harwalan is in power."

"What's the plan?" Jothee said. "I'm not committing to anything yet."

"Your role in my plan is complex," Scorpius said.

"Go ahead," Sikozu said. "Say it."

Scorpius looked up at her and frowned.

"You paused there," Sikozu said. "You were going to say something."

Scorpius shook his head. "It's nothing."

"You had a jab," Sikozu said. "Scorpius. I know you."

Jothee and Chiana looked between each other, confused. Chiana smiled, and Jothee nodded. They weren't going to stop this argument. It was too amusing seeing Scorpius at the disadvantage for once.

"What do you think I was going to say?" Scorpius said.

"Exactly the same thing I've been thinking while I'm standing here with this Nebari dancing back and forth like she wants to strike me," Sikozu said. "You hope their weak little minds can take the strain of an actual thought."

Scorpius opened his mouth to argue and then nodded. "You are right."

Sikozu stepped forward from the wall and curled her hands into fists. "Of course I'm right. I'm always right. Lesser beings are something else."

Chiana threw a punch and Sikozu blocked it. Chiana nodded, impressed.

"You've learned, Kalish," Chiana said.

"I've been in a spaceship with the master of kink since the Wars," Sikozu said. "Would you expect anything else from me?"

Jothee kicked up his feet and took a long chug of the ras'lak. Scorpius laughed quietly, a rumble surprisingly like a Luxan warrior, and took a sip from his own booze.

"Women," Jothee said.

"Fun to watch when you can't play," Scorpius said.

"I heard that," Chiana and Sikozu said together. They growled, and it made both of them more angry at each other. Jothee breathed a sigh of relief. For a second, he had thought they would turn their wrath on their lovers. Then all hell would have loosened onto the world and the Romantic Apocalypse would come about.

Jothee didn't say anything. Neither did Scorpius, and they clinked their bottles together.

Chiana was in a frenzy and nothing would distract her in such a tight location as this. It had been boiling up all through the fight in orbit, the incident with Banikstan's headquarters and the unrealized Varla. He would have to follow that up, he remembered, and looked at Scorpius. Maybe the liquor was talking. Maybe he was insane.

"There are Nebari in this sector," Jothee said.

"Other than your lover?" Scorpius said. His pasty face drooped. He looked sloshed.

"Yes," Jothee said.

"I will remember that," Scorpius said.

"That's why I told you," Jothee said.

"In exchange," Scorpius said. "Do not cross Harwalan. But tail me when I leave this world. You will seek an opportunity to distract her, make her think she knows where you are. This will benefit both of us. We must not let her know the truth."

"And that is?" Jothee said.

"We are working together," Scorpius said.

Jothee frowned. "In a way."

"In a way," Scorpius said. "Then you must contact Captain Banikstan, in any way you wish. But be sure you let him know that he will, I stress that he absolutely will, find himself in a great conflict with Harwalan, led by her very warship the Kriegschmerz. The conflict will come to a final conclusion, and I would prefer him to come out on top instead of Malahati Harwalan."

"How the arse am I supposed to get in contact with him?" Jothee said. "We invaded his damn headquarters, remember?"

"You are Ka D'Argo's child. You will think of something," Scorpius said. "But be sure he watches for the confrontation. Harwalan is ruthless."

Jothee nodded. "I'll do that. Somehow."

"Good," Scorpius said. "Our opportunities for conversation will be rare after this, so I wish you well in your endeavours. Both of our fates are up to you, your Luxan warriors, and your Nebari woman."

Jothee laughed. "She is a class of her own."

"Just as mine," Scorpius said. "Who do you think will win their little conflict?"

Jothee shrugged. "I don't care. I hope they fight for the whole night."

Scorpius clinked his bottle against Jothee's. "If nothing else, we do see eye to eye on that subject."

Jothee shook his head. "I want Chiana to win."

Scorpius showed his teeth. "Sikozu will win."

Jothee crossed his arms. "Bet you twenty cred."

Scorpius leaned back and relaxed. "Yes."


	13. Chapter 9

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 9

SirNi

"The suggestion worked well," Scorpius said. "Other than the machine."

"How could I have improved it?" Sikozu wondered.

Sikozu sat on a command table in the Iresa, hair sweaty and chaotic, and her bodice loosened a little so her chest could breathe. Rubber, especially PVC, made a person dehydrate fast, and Scorpius had conflicted feelings about the woman's disinclination to change to a lighter, comfortable set of clothing. Was she feeling so tightly wound that she couldn't drop her defenses even during a moment of physical weakness?

Certainly, he could understand that. But he didn't appreciate that it made him more attracted to the woman. He and her were the only lifeforms on board the Iresa at the moment, and they could do things they hadn't done in a very long time. Scorpius watched the main window very carefully and manned the ship with his own hands.

"We could brought stronger weaponry," Scorpius said. "We could have scouted the position. But I'm pretty sure that machine would have been a variable either way."

"It almost captured us," Sikozu said. "It injured me."

His temper surged. "Which is why you shouldn't be talking."

"But I have to know," Sikozu said.

Scorpius laughed softly. "It injured you, and it reduced me to bringing the demonic power forth. That machine was wicked."

"I don't think that we destroyed it," Sikozu said.

"No," Scorpius said. "We barely escaped." He motioned toward the main window. "Which is the reason that we're obtaining a part to play in this war."

"And that might be?" Sikozu said.

"Think up a story for why you were injured," Scorpius said. "I worked on some of the data while you were recovering. I found one of Harwalan's chemical factories."

"She'll know!"

"Believe me," Scorpius said. "The owner of this factory has no love at all for the woman."

"That doesn't make sense!" Sikozu said.

"Create a story," Scorpius said. "You'll see."

Sikozu made a grumpy hmpf noise and stared at the Marauder's floor. Scorpius kept his eyes on the space station, as they crawled further toward it. He hadn't lied to her, not precisely, but he would have to walk carefully around the owner of the station to convince him to his side. The owner of the factory, an Ihasc named Haranni, had no love for anyone, and Harwalan had forced him to join the syndicate.

The station itself, the construction, the security, and the sheer immensity of it, required more than a cursory glance. This was not like a rest stop by any definition. This was more like the Gammak base he had built for his first experiments with the wormholes. Four rows of short-range cannons poked from its half mile long outer shell, and the shell was but the first of several layers of defenses.

The hangars, one of which the Iresa crept into after the clearing and analysis of the credentials, sat between the cannons, as though to frighten its guests. Enough shuttles and craft roamed around the station that it appeared busy and active, but Scorpius's military experience said that the activity was a third that of a base its size. His proximity radar said that several guards were coming for his introduction.

"Got a story?" Scorpius said.

"I do," Sikozu said. "I'm not sure how strong it is."

Scorpius had a story of his own, about how they had fought a series of bounty hunters, but Sikozu's injury would look more real if she was the one who told about it. Still, he could possibly join both of them together, if he had to. "We're about to find out," Scorpius said. "Remember, keep your calm."

"I don't need reminding about that," Sikozu said.

"Great events are happening," Scorpius said. "I think we could soon see calm and rationality forgotten pursuits as they alter every part of this sector."

Sikozu leaned forward, and, remembering, zipped her bodice. "Are you feeling all right, Scorpius?"

"I have a limited supply of coolant," Scorpius said. "I am not a Peacekeeper."

"But you have me," Sikozu said.

"But we have walked into a war," Scorpius said.

"You could walk out of it," Sikozu said. "We could forget this, all of this, and continue on. You won a war, Scorpius. You deserve some rest."

"No," Scorpius said. "I can't. That's all there is to it." Scorpius stood up and cocked a finger at Sikozu. "Come on, they're waiting for us."

Sikozu got up and chased him toward the door. She stumbled, her legs curving. Were they anyone else's, he would have thought they were broken. Upon peering closer, he realised that her arms had the same trouble, her wrists and elbows curving strangely. She met his eyes underneath her bangs.

"What is your problem?" Sikozu said.

Scorpius imitated the unnerving curvature. "I'm concerned."

"The machine messed with me," Sikozu said.

"I thought you were recovering?" Scorpius said.

Sikozu said each word slowly and carefully. "This has never happened before."

Scorpius nodded and touched the button that opened for the door. "Be careful."

Sikozu made a reply, but Scorpius didn't hear her. Four rifle barrels stared toward them.

"Why are you here, Scorpius?" asked their leader.

Scorpius began to reply, but Sikozu interrupted him. Scorpius grinned.

"Perhaps you do not know, but this sector is a war zone," Sikozu said. "I, and Scorpius here, were engaged in a battle with informants who had been agents of Captain Banikstan. We had been set up, and," she pointed at her torn bodice and Scorpius's worn leather armor, "we barely got away with our lives. This was the closest place we could find that we could recuperate."

The leader nodded. "Sure, I believe that."

Sikozu would have believed him, a long time ago. This time, she frowned. "You don't sound like you do."

"You would be right," the leader said. "I know about you, Scorpius. You backstab allies for your own purposes, and you're second only to Commander Crichton in the amount of damage you've inflicted in this galaxy."

Scorpius glared. "And my bodyguard?"

"What's her name?" the leader said.

Sikozu peered at Scorpius. "Sikozu."

"We'll have to check your story with Harwalan," the leader said.

"Harwalan says only good things about us," Scorpius said.

"I'll see about that," the leader said. "Come with us. You can stay in lockdown."

"We could stay in - " Sikozu said.

The leader showed his trigger finger and set it on the weapon. "You can come with us."

Scorpius grinned. "Sounds like an introduction. Lead on."

The guards had the intelligence to keep Sikozu and himself from walking together as they charged through the corridors. It annoyed him more than he wanted to admit, because he wanted to tell her that there really was nothing to be concerned about. He thought their attitude toward them was merely a front, and that they in fact were not their enemies at all. Then they brought them to the brig.

Scorpius leaned against the stone wall and sighed.

"Great work," Sikozu said.

Scorpius frowned and thought about the situation. "Cameras? Microphones?"

"I don't think so," Sikozu said.

"I'm pretty sure they don't have them," Scorpius said. "They're too expensive for this place to set up."

"You're going to open the lock?" Sikozu said.

"Perhaps," Scorpius said. "If they've forgotten about their prisoners."

"You think they have?"

"No. They have another idea."

"What is that?" Sikozu said.

"Quiet," Scorpius said.

Legs scraped along the stone floor, softly and sharply.

"Who is it?" Scorpius said.

Smooth stalks glanced around the side of the brig, and several others stretched toward Sikozu. She gasped. Scorpius smiled.

"Haranni, I presume?" Scorpius asked.

"Were you anyone else, I could be surprised."

The Ihasc stepped toward the door of the jail, and Scorpius saw a glimpse of an alien species he had never before seen. The Ihasc was tall and portly, its bulk almost stretching to the ceiling. Its eyes, connected to the stalks, stood at the top of them, and could have been unable to see other than the fact that they could reach ten or eleven feet. In general, the creature looked like a giant, rolling ball.

"So, tell me," Scorpius said. "You had a need for an act?"

A small mouth, lined with yellow teeth, some of them had been knocked or fallen out, appeared underneath the stalks whenever the Ihasc talked. Sikozu made noises like she was about to hurl, and Scorpius sympathized.

"You think I don't know you," the Ihasc said. "Scorpius, former Peacekeeper, and a half-breed. No one in their right mind could ever trust you."

Scorpius stepped forward, closer to the stalks. "I'm not asking that you trust me, Haranni. I'm asking that you agree."

"The Malahati presents me with everything I could ever want, for this place, and for myself," Haranni said. "You aren't a Peacekeeper, Scorpius. Why do you think you could convince them to do anything you say?"

"High Command has gripped the Peacekeepers with a stronger hand after the Wars were done and the Scarrens forced to agree to a truce," Scorpius said. "That much is true. But the hallways of power retain their structure, and even though I have resigned my position, several of my subordinates have a loyalty that is entirely of their own choice, and powerful as a result."

"I note that you haven't presented me with names," Haranni said.

"I waited until I could see your face, such as your visage is," Scorpius said. "Your files say you know one Commander Meeklo Braca."

Haranni bent its stalks back, cautious. "He is your man?"

"From the first year within which he was assigned to support the security of my research," Scorpius said. "Braca has always been my man."

Sikozu chuckled. Scorpius glared at her, and then noticed the stone jail.

"I require proof," Haranni said.

Scorpius sighed. "Ask him."

The stalks peered into the other jail. "The girl sounds as though she knows something."

"Haranni," Sikozu said the name warily. "Some non-coms say that Scorpius and Braca must be homosexual lovers, for how close they are. Don't worry about him."

"Are you?" Haranni said.

"We aren't," Scorpius said. "Sikozu should know that, and should not laugh at such a notion."

Sikozu laughed harder.

"Except for some circumstances," Scorpius said.

All of the stalks on the Haranni blinked. "That's all I need. Where shall we begin the tour, Scorpius?"

"The beginning," Scorpius said. "Show me the creation of Harwalan's chemicals."

"You don't refer to her as her title?" Haranni said.

"Only in her presence," Scorpius said.

"She has eyes," Haranni said. "I could report to her, if I wished."

"What if I were to want her lesson?" Scorpius said.

"You know of her methods?" Haranni said. "You wouldn't like them. I'll say that. No one likes her lessons." Haranni's stalks opened the door, watching him warily. "Come."

Scorpius found that the hallways, as a result of the fermenting of the chemicals, had a stuffy, oppressive heat that he hadn't felt in a long time. The coolant rod was working on the highest capacity and he swooned in reaction. Sikozu didn't show any visible reaction to the heat, even wearing a rubber outfit, and Scorpius nodded appreciatively. She was quickly strengthening.

As they walked around the stairs and catwalks of the factory, Scorpius glimped the people who worked there. Not all of them had been made for such an environment, and some of them looked uncomfortable, like they could faint from exhaustion. He thought about it, and figured that some of them had to be slaves. Harwalan would certainly have no compunctions against using people without their consent.

Haranni's tour included the names and importance of the chemicals used in the creation of the hallucinogens, such as eranosa, rilarip and nassen. Scorpius had not heard of ten of them, and made it a point to remember them. He listened attentively to Haranni, and, though fascinating, some part of it sounded not quite right. Haranni was keeping something back, but Scorpius had no idea what it was.

He knew it involved the three chemical he didn't know anything about. Miners had excavated rilarip from a mine some distance away, and they had all they would require for another decade. The Ihasc hid the sensitive stone in a protected and highly secure location, because it was volatile and would easily fall apart if touched wrongly.

Eranosa and nassen had originated as liquids. Eranosa presented no threat, and, though important, did not need heavy caution. When Scorpius inquired about eranosa, Haranni's eyes rolled, and his flesh shivered. Metal tubing shipped nassen across the sector for this factory, and frequently. In that way specifically, it required the opposite methods than rilarip. Nassen was the primary import, and continually kept the rounds. Banikstan and Harwalan frequently fought about the chemical. Gangs stockpiled it.

But Scorpius had no clue. And he required the information.

"Haranni," Scorpius said, "are you keeping a secret?"

Haranni's eye stared at Scorpius. "Why would I do that?"

"Because Harwalan has a syndicate secret."

Haranni laughed. "Scorpius. I'm on your side."

Scorpius grinned. "You're smarter than that."

Haranni's eye winked, and he didn't say anything.

"Is there a syndicate secret?" Scorpius said. "Are any of these people her agents?"

"Why?"

"I want to know," Scorpius said. "I want a part in this war."

"Your bodyguard?" Haranni said. "Your Peacekeeper allegiances? Will they join your role?"

"I don't know," Scorpius said. "I won't beat any information out of the agents in this factory."

"She brings agents in," Haranni said. "They leave with shipments of the fermented material, and, somehow, the hallucinogens are created. Even I don't know."

"Can I bring a shipment with me?" Scorpius said. "Under the radar."

"Scorpius," Sikozu whispered, "someone is watching us."

"Can I?" Scorpius said. "Perhaps not now."

"Only a little."

"Only enough so I can immerse myself," Scorpius said.

"Immerse. Like water. All of your form?"

"Yes."

Haranni laughed. "I shall find the amount."

"Where are my watchers?" Scorpius said.

"Only idly now," Sikozu said.

Haranni blinked at the watchers. "They're Harwalan's. We should go. Keep in my path, Scorpius, and I shall have your amount when we get to your ship."

"Cautiously," Sikozu said. "The attention's on us."

"Don't worry. You'll have to think up some excuses for Harwalan," Haranni said. "Get back at the woman. Find out what she's pursuing."

Scorpius smiled. "Precisely."


	14. Chapter 14

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 14

SirNi

Sikozu lost.

Scorpius put the fury into his search for the Nebari Jothee had told him about. As entertaining as it had looked to see her rubber clad body beneath that of the sweaty Nebari, the combination of her weakness, his taking the Luxan's bet and the Nebari's strength angered him. In the half day that he took searching the records for the Nebari, Sikozu had beat up three different punching bags. It made the entire _Iresa _smell of her pleasurable scent.

The Nebari had ferreted himself into a small crack in Harwalan's loopholes, he found, and the planet was even infested with many of her agents. Whoever he was, he was a crafty little thing. Infiltrating the piles of security around his central hub would take some careful con games between he and Sikozu.

Scorpius spun around in the captain's chair. Its base made a soft squeak against the floor, a little like the new rubber outfit Sikozu wore. PVC, especially the tight, constricting outfit she had been wearing, became warm quickly. Scorpius had an entire closet full of coolant suits, but he hadn't switched out of his current suit in a while. He would before he conversed with the Nebari.

Sikozu's current suit, still the same black vinyl, had been made for strenuous physical activity. The midriff top showed less of her bosom than the other, sort of a smooth rubber surface now, but the pants accentuated her other features well. Between the rubber opera gloves, the combat boots, and her exposed neck, Scorpius found himself as fascinated as he did before.

"Keep that suit on," Scorpius said. "It should be useful."

Sikozu spun around, breathing heavily and slowly opening her fists. "The Nebari is in range?"

"Almost," Scorpius said. "He has presented us with tight security, both in orbit and on the planet. Are you ready to bluff?"

Sikozu paced around in the bridge of the Iresa. "Bluff? Who said anything about a bluff? I want to punch someone."

Scorpius spun the chair around and scrolled through images of the planet and the security. Cameras, machine guns, guard patrols. The Nebari protected an important secret. "You may be able to do that. I will remember your request."

Sikozu set her hands on the back of his chair. Her fingers curled around the headrest, and the tight rubber scratched on the leather. She smelled like chlorine and apples. He found it both disturbing and wonderful. "Thank you. When will we be arriving?"

"Before long," Scorpius said. "I have an alarm set when we are there."

Sikozu danced back and forth. Her hair brushed his face. Her presence became increasingly distracting. "What will we do when we arrive?"

"We will, ah," Scorpius said.

"We will what?" Sikozu said.

Scorpius leaned back and looked up into her face. Sikozu's clear green eyes stared down on him. She had a huge grin on her face. The sweat from the exercise made her scales shine in the low light. Without lowering his face, Scorpius spun the chair around again, and set his hands in Sikozu's. She lifted her head and exposed her neck.

They had done this so many times it was like second nature to Scorpius. Sikozu reached for the base of his gauntlets and pulled them off, one at a time. She wrapped her hands around his, jabbing the rubber tips into his flesh. She entangled her legs around his, and to stay in the woman's restraining grip, Scorpius had to fight down his Scarren strength. He growled with pleasure and Sikozu chortled.

He pushed his body down on hers and tugged on the suit's zipper with his teeth. Between her gloves, her boots, and her body, Scorpius smelled Sikozu's intense scent and the soft edge of her bosom. A sharp, acidic liquid squirted up into his mouth and his nose, and Scorpius lifted his head up, expelling the horrible taste.

Sikozu propped up on her elbows and smiled up at him. "You forgot."

Scorpius wiped the liquid off his nose with a finger. A different substance from the one Sikozu had used against the fish's attack, he pushed it into his mouth and spit it out. It tasted like old, rancid skin from a decaying aranbalukn. "You picked well."

Sikozu stood up, brushed the suit off, and crossed her arms. She had been fully aware he would do that, and she wore an arrogant grin on her face. "So, inferior creature, do you know where that came from?"

"It tastes like decaying aranbalukn," Scorpius said.

"It came from its testicles," Sikozu said. "You drank aranbalukn ball sweat."

Scorpius stared at her. "You are telling the truth."

Sikozu touched the zipper. "You want to do that again?"

Scorpius turned to the console again and ducked his head. "No."

Sikozu's laugh doubled her in two.

Scorpius allowed her humor. The alarm beeped three minutes and eight seconds later, and she wasn't done cackling. "We're there, Sikozu. When you're calm again, I will tell you what we will do."

Scorpius and Sikozu landed their transport a mile from the outskirts of the Nebari base. He had a wide perimeter arranged around it, including cameras, motion scanners and guardsmen. None of them should present a problem, thought Scorpius, as long as they were ready. The information he had obtained told him which route would likely give him the safest chance for an easy invasion.

Neither of them walked into it blindly. Sikozu carried a pulse bazooka with four cannons on the front of it, a model that always looked more appropriate in the ugly hands of a full-blooded Scarren. Its few lights shone on her rubber suit and drew his eye to her bosom yet again. Sikozu smiled and touched the zipper in reminder.

Scorpius rolled his eyes and marched forward through the dense woods. He carried a pulse rifle, a weapon that Sikozu told him made him look like insectoid. He didn't have a problem with that. As long as it unsettled his foes and let him do what he wished, any advantage would be useful.

The mile went quickly. Scorpius bent down to look around the territory, and Sikozu knelt beside him, the suit creaking at its joints. The evergreen forest smelled strong, detracting from the scent the woman had exuded after their aborted scene in the shuttle. She exchanged a look with him.

"It's open," Sikozu said.

Scorpius nodded, stood up and pointed the rifle to the west. "Let's go for it."

Sikozu pointed the cannon to the east, and they stomped up to the base, side by side. The guards were nowhere near, but the cameras had seen them by now. Scorpius aimed at the two above them and shot them off their posts. According to the readouts, the base had few enough people inside it that they could shoot a path inside before they were outnumbered.

"I hope this plans works," Sikozu said.

"Of course it will," Scorpius said. "I am not Crichton."

Sikozu cackled. "You are just as inferior."

Scorpius growled. "Be careful with your words, Sikozu. Wait for that."

Sikozu hushed. "I understand. Lead on."

Scorpius only shot down three or four guards on his path, far less than he had thought he would have to fight. They crumpled beneath the blow, but their black, Sebacean-supplied body armor implied they would be perfectly okay. Sikozu shot one, and the cannon flung the body across the hallway to thump against the wall.

"You think he's okay?" Scorpius said.

"Ask the captain," Sikozu said. "I'll bet you five he is."

Scorpius hissed. "I do not gamble."

Sikozu scanned the weapon back and forth. Sweat began dribbling down her face and neck. The weapon became heavier the more she carried it. This would be a useful strength training for the Kalish. "This invasion is a gamble."

Scorpius nodded. "It is. Okay. You're on."

Sikozu smiled. It was the widest smile he had seen out of her since the Wars, to his surprise. Her face lit up with the happiness. "I'll make a player out of you yet, Scorpius."

Scorpius shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"I'll explain later," Sikozu said. "It's a word I learned from John Crichton."

Scorpius hissed. "Crichton."

Sikozu cackled. "Are we almost there?"

Scorpius angled his head at a door in their path. "Right there. Should I go in first?"

"You," Sikozu said. "This is your idea."

Scorpius stood on the east side of the door. Sikozu stood on the west and kicked it open with her foot. Scorpius charged inside, Sikozu close on his heels. One Nebari sat in a black desk, almost as black as Sikozu's rubber suit, in a lobby made of stone and steel. The Nebari put his black-clad hands together and clapped.

"Impressive," the Nebari said. "For a Scarren."

Scorpius snarled.

"You are a Scarran," the Nebari said. "Admit it, Scorpius."

"You know me," Scorpius said. "Did you know I was coming?"

"Of course not," the Nebari said. "But I have nothing to fear from you."

Scorpius motioned Sikozu to flank the Nebari. The Nebari didn't move. He had black hair, a charcoal black business suit, and black worker gloves on his hands. The suit's buttons had been painted a light yellow. His face shone white, like a zombie, in the room. Its paint left nothing untouched. Only a tiny grey outline showing his eyes and mouth implied his true nature.

"What advantage do you have?" Scorpius said.

"One touch of a button on this desk, and a brew will flow into this room, and you will become my unthinking, mind-cleansed servant." The Nebari smiled. "So, please, be my guest. Sit."

Scorpius lowered his gun and nodded. He sat down in the Nebari's chair. "You are a wise man. You realise this was the plan from the beginning."

"I do not have a chair for your woman. Is this acceptable to you?" the Nebari asked.

"Sikozu is my bodyguard," Scorpius said. "She stands."

Sikozu stood a few feet to the right of Scorpius. She waved a hand.

"I am Poleris," the Nebari said. "Why have you come, Scorpius?"

"Information," Scorpius said.

Poleris sighed and motioned his arms wide. "Could you tell more than that?"

Scorpius moved his head around and leered at Poleris. It brought him a few moments about how to phrase his answer, and with any luck it would unsettle him. Poleris ogled him, his eyes huge beneath the white makeup. On a woman, Scorpius could have thought it attractive. He would have to suggest it to Sikozu. On a man, even an androgynous man, it looked creepy.

"I have heard you have a grandiose plans involving the mind cleansing so important to your society," Scorpius said.

Poleris gave Scorpius a blank look. "Perhaps."

"I would be interested in helping you," Scorpius said. "I have a strong connection to a person in this sector, and may have a way to insinuate myself into her graces."

Poleris lifted an eyebrow. "Who would this person be?"

Sikozu stared at Scorpius levelly.

"The most powerful person," Scorpius said. "You know who I'm talking about."

Poleris flung his head back and cackled. Any movement on that white face looked startling, and Scorpius resisted a sudden shudder. The Nebari lowered his head again and shook his head. "You, working with Harwalan? You are reputable in the Uncharted Territories, but you are not that good. No one can touch Harwalan."

Scorpius frowned. "Interpret my words differently, Poleris. I do not have greater power in the relationship. Malahati Harwalan holds greater power over me."

Poleris nodded. "Why?"

"'An interest in me'", Scorpius said. "I do not know what she means."

Poleris smiled and steepled his fingers. "I may know."

Scorpius felt his Scarren heat rise. Undoubtedly, his skin began to drip a little with the intensity. A growl surged into his words. "Tell me."

"I struck a nerve," Poleris said. "I am getting somewhere. No, I will not, Scorpius. First, you will work for me. You will bring me proof that you have worked your way into Harwalan's elite, and then I will tell what she wants with you."

Scorpius forced his Scarren anger down. The coolant rod in his head thumped, forcing its juices into his brain. The Nebari watched his momentary lack of control, and Scorpius exhaled slowly. "What would be suitable proof?"

"A personal recording, from the Malahati. I know your reputation, Scorpius, and I will know if it is false" Poleris said.

Sikozu snickered and kicked her rubber-covered legs onto the desk. The fabric played against the soft lights in the room. Poleris looked at her in distaste.

"Do you always wear such a vulgar outfit?" Poleris said.

Sikozu sat up, abruptly aware. She ran her five fingers up and down her legs. She angled her head and studied Poleris. "Does this bother you?"

"Rubber," Poleris said. "It is not a suitable covering for a body."

Sikozu lifted an eyebrow. "Do you Establishment people feel anything?"

"I have grown my child in a breeding vat," Poleris said. "I do not like sex. Bodies hold no such interest for me. The few Nebari with such interests use sex strictly for breeding purposes."

Sikozu smiled. "Oh."

Poleris shook his head. "What?"

Scorpius spoke up. "For most people who feel such things, rubber is skintight, and it is... an attraction difficult to resist."

"You are drawn to this?" Poleris said.

"Frequently," Scorpius said.

Poleris shook his head. "You are insane."

Scorpius smiled. "John Crichton is insane. I am very sane."

Poleris sighed. "Bring me a recording, Scorpius. I will know if it is real, or altered. And please, bring this woman with you. She apparently makes you feel something, so take her with you."

"I was a pleasure," Scorpius said. "Glad to be doing business with you, Poleris."

Poleris nodded. As Scorpius and Sikozu left the room, he didn't answer them. Sikozu leaned against Scorpius as they walked through the corridors inside the base. She looked and felt flushed. The coolant rod continued to thump, and his skin felt dry. He finally grabbed Sikozu by the shoulders and stood in front of her. She lifted her head up, and he shook his head.

Scorpius frowned. "Not right now." He lowered his head.

Sikozu pushed the button. His coolant rod slid out quietly and the tension surged out of his skull. She pulled a blue rod out of her belt and shoved it into the gannet. "Why do you need a new coolant rod?"

Scorpius walked forward again, to the door that led from the base. "Because I have a bad feeling about this, Sikozu."

"I don't get it," Sikozu said.

Scorpius didn't answer until he had walked back to the Iresa and sat down in the captain's chair. Sikozu leaned over the panel beside him. He brought up the sector grid and pointed toward the orbit around the planet. The Kriegschwerz hovered above it. Scorpius peered at Sikozu, lips pursed.

"The Malahati knows we came here," Scorpius said. He sighed. "I thought she would be waiting outside the base."

"Why?" Sikozu said.

"Malahati Harwalan has begun the last battle of her war," Scorpius said. "I hate to say this, but Jothee and Chiana will determine Banikstan's fate. I have done all I can."


	15. Chapter 15

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 15

SirNi

"Have you not been waiting for this, Scorpius? Has it not haunted your every day since you met me?" Harwalan said.

"To the former, no," Scorpius said. "To the latter, yes."

Harwalan laughed. "Come. Let me show you to the observation deck."

Scorpius followed her, his senses alert. Around him soldiers ran to their posts, and alarms roared their warning of an imminent battle. Strangely, Harwalan's heels still stood out from the rest of the noise, and they clicked quietly when they reached the liquid observation post. She held her hands behind her back and grinned across at him.

"You know you're impatient for this," Harwalan said. "You have been ever since you began to suspect I had something going on."

Scorpius met her eyes, in a way, at least. He couldn't quite see the orbs beneath her epicanthic folds, so deep were they. He found it both exhilarating and terrifying. "No. In fact, I'm not."

Harwalan laughed softly. "You will be, when you see what I have unleashed."

"A wormhole?" Scorpius said.

"Nothing so harsh as that," Harwalan said. "No, this is different."

Ships began to line up outside the window of the Kriegschwerz. Scorpius began to realise that she moved the ship ridiculously fast to the outskirts of Banikstan's base. She was bringing this war to its conclusion already. He stared at her, surprised. Why would she possibly bring this to its end so soon? She had an ace up her sleeve.

"You might have noticed you are one coolant rod short," Harwalan said. "I took one from you when you first entered this sector. That is why I need you, Scorpius. You have a chemical, important to your existence as a half-breed, that has larger importance to this sector as a whole. I could not have done this without you."

"What chemical?" Scorpius whispered.

"I will have to show you, later," Harwalan said. "Do you remember that factory that I showed you after your arrival?"

"I do," Scorpius said.

"As of this moment, that project is nine-tenths complete," Harwalan said. "It is nearly completed, and I can barely sustain my anxiety at finally destroying Banikstan once and for all. I will be able to annihilate his base with the forces I have, I know that without a single doubt, but to remove him and every trace of who he is I will need to obtain that chemical and build my ultimate weapon."

"You're mad," Scorpius said.

"I am smart," Harwalan said. "You should be the first to understand the impulse to create a thing that the world has never seen in its entire history. Your wormhole research showed me I should do this, Scorpius. If you were able to, I should be able to, also. And I will see it through. I do not need an Erpling to contribute his effort."

"I am glad Crichton did it instead of me," Scorpius said. "I have seen my errors. I have seen the evil of my former ways. That was wrong, Harwalan. The wormhole weapon should never have been made, not by me, nor by Crichton. I brought him to that point, but he was at fault. It was his choice, when everything was finished."

Harwalan whirled on him. Her white suit reflected the blue lights of the walls and nearly blinded his sensitive eyes. "What would you have done?"

"I would done something else, anything else," Scorpius said. "I will destroy the Scarren race, but through a different method. Not through an ultimate weapon. I am a master of trickery, Harwalan. I will wield that in my struggle."

Harwalan clicked her fingers together and the two bodyguards came to her side. "Bring him to the factory. Show him what I have created."

"Yes, Malahati," Ceranne said.

"If you come back without having learned the truth," Harwalan said. "I will teach you myself, Scorpius. And you will not like it."

"A lesson," Scorpius said.

"I might do it anyway," Harwalan said. "You are far too mouthy for a submissive."

"I do not submit!" Scorpius screamed.

"When I teach you a lesson, you will," Harwalan said. "Bring him and his woman. Show him what he must learn."

Scorpius had figured out most of Harwalan's strategy by the time he and Sikozu had went to the factory. Natira, like Harwalan, had taken a long time to find the right ingredients for the coolant rods, and they could not be easily found even now. He counted the rods and learned that she had indeed stolen one from his collection. He was incredibly low on them now, and Sikozu had noticed that fact.

"What will we do now?" she asked from the back seat of the shuttle.

"I know what will happen to me, because I will be forced to return. You must do what you must, and you know what I mean by that. We're bugged, so we can't be specific," Scorpius said. "I don't know how, don't tell me, I don't want to know. But I rely on what you are able to accomplish, Sikozu."

When they left the shuttle, as Scorpius had expected, the bodyguards accosted Sikozu and quickly cuffed her hands behind her back. They looked at Scorpius, but a glance told them that he could break free of any bonds they could possibly have on their person. Sikozu looked at Scorpius with a skeptical expression but he smiled in response. Of course they would take precautions, but, in the end, they would not amount to much.

The guards led them into the factory and back to the location where the vats were. One space had been left open, the vat that Haranni had removed for Scorpius's pleasure. He had a mental glimpse of the Malahati's anger at being stained with the liquid, and he wondered again what the lesson would be. He had already decided he would let her have her way with him. He simply could not hold in his curiosity.

"How does all of this fit together?" Scorpius said. "Why does she need me?"

Haranni's eyestalks stared at him. "She, in fact, has no further need of you, Scorpius. She could eliminate you and everything would be okay, because she has already obtained the necessary materials from your coolant rod. But now that you know the truth, she will not allow you to leave, at least not with your full freedom."

Scorpius walked up to Haranni and glared at him. "What will happen now?"

"The Malahati will keep you in her presence, as long as she wishes," Haranni said. "She only brought you here, right now, to extract one more sample."

Scorpius snarled. "She will not!"

The bodyguards beat Scorpius's back with their batons, and he fell to the floor. He stood up and lashed out at them, but others came, and together they dogpiled him. Against his will, they pushed the button on his head, and the gannet rolled out. The rod glowed a bright, angry red, and Scorpius roared as they pulled it out.

The yellow fish, whichever one he was, lifted the rod up to the light and smiled. "There. Now we have all we need. You can go with us again, Scorpius, or die here in the machinery." Several other guards pointed their guns at him. Scorpius stood up, feeling his skin begin to overheat. "What do you choose?"

Scorpius placed his hands behind his back, like Sikozu, and felt steel cuffs encircle his wrists. He carefully didn't reply, though he felt his lungs working harder, as they lined him up beside Sikozu. The bodyguards kept their eyes on him, and Scorpius set his eyes on Sikozu.

"I didn't see this coming," Sikozu said.

Scorpius stepped closer to her, by a small trace. The bodyguards clicked her guns into firing position and Scorpius stepped back. Sikozu gasped for a second. Scorpius had given her a universal lockpick that would have worked either for his handcuffs or hers. He had built it out of spare machinery on the Iresa. Sikozu lifted her head high and gave him a clear view of the pale flesh of her neck.

Upon choosing to, Scorpius could have ripped the cuffs off of his hands without a second thought and charged both of the bodyguards and stolen their weapons. But he chose not to, instead giving Sikozu a chance. It was purely in his own favor, he figured, because no one would have expected a moment of charity from him, especially in so delicate a situation.

Because of that, and because of his interest in Harwalan, this appeared like the perfect moment to act in a way no one had thought he would. Scorpius, a few feet opposite Sikozu, pondered the sharp but barely noticeable movements of her rubber-clad arms as she worked on the lock. It would take a lot of effort, but she could do it.

Scorpius found himself surprised by the unrelenting rubber she wore. It accentuated her breasts and butt in the right ways, but it left enough secrets that you couldn't actually see them move. Unusually, he found himself annoyed with the material. He couldn't see any flaws or any motion behind it. Then he saw the muscle tension in her neck and reassured himself of its beauty.

Sikozu stopped her efforts and Scorpius realised she had opened the lock. She looked around the hangar and saw a gun laying beside a ladder half of the room distant.

"Are we going to get moving?" Scorpius yelled at the guards. "I hate waiting."

"Oh, shut up, we'll bring you there," Lerash said.

Scorpius kicked a piece of stray comm gear at the yellow fish. "Come on already!"

Lerash stomped toward Scorpius. "Watch it, half-breed." He got right in his face and several people had turned to their conflict.

"Even with my hands cuffed, you don't have a chance against me," Scorpius said.

"Should we see?" Lerash said.

"I think so," Scorpius said. "Attack me."

The fish hesitated. In that second of tension, Sikozu rushed toward the gun. She turned a corner and shot the gun in the air. The entire room's people turned to her.

"This place is rigged!" Sikozu said. "I have a bomb!"

Scorpius smiled. "My woman is smart."

"This was your tactic," Lerash said.

"So what if it was?" Scorpius said. "You have a bomb on your hands."

"There is no bomb," Lerash said. "There is no bomb!"

Scorpius smiled, teeth out. "Do you want to gamble your life on that?"

Sikozu's boots clattered down the corridor.

"Find her!" Lerash said.

His words were interrupted by a loud burst of fuel and a fireball behind them.

"I would say that is a bomb," Scorpius said.

"She blew up a gas tank," Lerash said.

"Similar enough," Scorpius said. "What are you going to do about it?"

Jets roared to life and a small craft flew from the hangar. Scorpius flew the air current on his back.

"Shoot her down!" Lerash said.

Scorpius kicked out at the fish and the fish went down hard. Scorpius stepped on the fish's face and smiled down at him. "I said I could take you, and I meant it." He stood up and faced the crowd. "Who wants some?"

The crowd rushed him and Scorpius toppled. The last thing he saw before unconsciousness was Sikozu's ship retreating into the night.


	16. Chapter 3

**Political Constraints & Chemical Floods**

Chapter 3

SirNi

The ship made him eagerly await the introduction of its leader. Neither the powerful glory of a Command Carrier, nor the brute violence of a Dreadnought from the Scarren Empire, the ship floating above a part-desert, part-ocean world looked calm and softly royal. It had power, all right, but unlike most others in the galaxy it wasn't inclined to show it.

Scorpius could sympathize.

The ship looked smooth, and could probably shine with a beautiful sheen against a colorful environment. He wasn't quite certain what color covered its hull, and he found himself busy enough pondering its structure. The ship's bow was round and the guns, cannons and turrets were miniature spheres that resembled the bridge. At the rear of the ship, its engines were giant, maybe a fourth the size of the ship. Nothing else showed the potential power.

It was powerful, certainly, and could probably force a single Command Carrier to retreat. More than one could annihilate it.

"I like this ship," Scorpius said. "Do you know the model?"

"I'm only a servant," the Sheyang replied. "You'll have to ask one of the crew."

"We're being led to your Mistress?" Sikozu said.

"Yes," the Sheyang said. "She wants to talk to Scorpius."

"And my woman," Scorpius said.

"Ask her about that," the Sheyang said.

Scorpius sighed and peered at the ship as they came further toward the bay. "Yes, quite. You're only the servant."

"A servant," the Sheyang said.

"Mr. Sheyang," Scorpius said.

Sikozu touched the Sheyang's forearm. The white flesh, between the black rubber, made him gaze. She smiled and Scorpius glanced away. "Scorpius cares about what he says, and you should be more cautious what you say around him."

"Control?" asked the Sheyang.

"Yes?" asked an electronic voice.

"Shuttle G1N bringing in Scorpius and his woman," the Sheyang said. "They ask me what her name is."

"Gojira," Scorpius said.

Sikozu stared at him underneath her red hair. Scorpius smiled.

"Gojira," the Sheyang said. "All right. We're docking. Watch out for their weapons, and you should be okay."

"I'm very familiar with weapons aimed at me," Scorpius said. "They should not be a problem, am I right?"

"Very much, sir," Sikozu said.

Scorpius smiled and walked to the back of the shuttle. His woman chased him, and the doors of the ship opened. He raised his hands, smiling, and Sikozu copied his gestures. Unusually, she looked scared. His wits were as together as they could be, and maybe he could help her.

Around a dozen soldiers came to the hangar for the introductions. Four of them wore black helmets from the most populous Sebacean military in the galaxy. One of them wore armor that had silver studs on it, a common Scarren tradition. The other eight looked like they had been created in a oceanic environment, with wide ears, smooth frames and gills on their faces.

Two of the fish people, the first a stocky green fish who looked queasy and about to puke, the second a giant yellow fish whose awkward walking suggested that he had not originally had legs, walked toward them and gave them a good glance. The first fish shoved him facefirst against the hatch, and Scorpius gazed firmly forward.

Scorpius browbeat his interrogator with a glare at the completion of the search. The creature's eyes, as much as they could look at one thing for any amount of time, glared back at him but then glanced away. The giant had Sikozu busy, still. While Scorpius peered at them, the guard, tiny, white and half the size of Sikozu, toppled onto the floor and yelled. Some wet substance had stuck to his eyes, and it appeared as though it hurt.

Then he realised the source. Sikozu's rubber bodice had been zipped so that the top outline of her breasts seeped through. Some gelatinous substance glowed on them. Sikozu had never been worried about her chastity when he had known her. She had really changed, somehow. Had she become wiser?

Sikozu zipped up the bodice and stepped on the chest of the tiny guard. "Learn, and learn now. You only look when I say you can look."

"Yes," the guard said. "Yes."

Sikozu pursed her lips together, nodded, and kicked his chin. The fish moaned and writhed.

"The same message applies for all of you," Sikozu said. "That is what you get when you make moves on me. Understood?"

Sikozu met Scorpius's eyes, but he simply smiled. The woman startled and glanced away. Obviously, she had changed. She hadn't admitted dominance to anyone, even himself, in or out of a scene. He had always liked that part of her, and it had even brought him to a powerful attraction.

He wondered what had precisely created that change. His anger toward her for the Scarren conspiracy hadn't done it by itself, had it? Sikozu's arrogance was too powerful to be pierced with that simple of a reaction? No, the answer had to be more complex. Sikozu had become distant. She had become submissive, and had been silent. She rarely talked, she rarely questioned, she rarely sought answers.

Sikozu had become a combat soldier when the Wars had begun. Even then, she hadn't been like this. She acted as though her environment had shown her it didn't like her, and had become something she wasn't a part of. It wanted her to leave, and she had to find out who, or what, wanted her. And to do that, she had to hide.

She acted like her lover, maybe her absolute love, had betrayed her. That made Scorpius chuckle, and remember how much he couldn't understand. In his mind, true love had never been. John and Officer Sun had simply been people in a place at the same time, and learned that they loved each other.

Sikozu hadn't realised that. If she had a lover, he wasn't the man.

However, that didn't keep him from a business relationship, and maybe even some bits to add to it. He had so many of those he couldn't remember all of them. Some of them had brought him around his limits, and those he still sought out sometimes. Phrixari's penchant for the scalding water especially stalked his thoughts.

"Might we continue on with the introduction?" Scorpius asked. "The Mistress waits for me, the Sheyang said."

"The Sheyang around here adore her," the queasy fish said.

The queasy fish had a bubbling noise in its voice that made Scorpius's own chemicals, unstable anyway, roil with discomfort. He might require a new cooling rod quite often on this ship, if that bastard was any example. Sheyangs were disgusting enough. Scorpius long ago had achieved the ability to hide his feelings, though, and asked, "Oh? Could you present me with details on that?"

"They think she's their mistress, as she has often uses them for practice. And she is everyone's, sort of. Her name is Harwalan. She prefers either Mistress or Malahati in front of her real name," said the guard.

Sikozu hmmed. "Malahati. That's Delvian for 'Leader'?"

"Really?" asked the guard.

Sikozu smiled. "Learn something new?"

"Yeah," the guard said. "Thank you."

Scorpius peered at Sikozu. "My bodyguard has surprising abilities."

"Not sure if I remember, but we might have a Delvian in the brig," the guard said. "If you might want to help us."

"I want to see the Malahari," Scorpius said.

"We're getting to her," the guard said. "You're eager, aren't you."

Scorpius gulped. "Eager to get on with the journey."

"Sure," the guard said. "Everyone's always eager to see the Malahari."

Scorpius glanced around the starship as they walked, and the journey wasn't all that far. The ship was maybe a mile from side to side, and the engines were a good chunk of it. The soft hum of a Leviathan wasn't within it, which made him feel barely more comfortable. He had never liked Moya, and though they had rarely talked he suspected she didn't like him, either. She was a puzzle he had wrestled with, and how Crichton had grown to like her he never could figure out.

Strange lights glowed within the metal walkways, and he had the eerie feeling they were cameras. The metal struts were a blue color that probably reflected the amphibious source of the fish he had seen. Were there more sea aliens on the ship? He hoped not. The paths were wide, and he guessed that five people were able to walk if they shoved their shoulders together. All said, the ship was simple on the inside, if not as appealing.

Then the guard spun a wheel and gestured inside a room. "She's in there. Don't worry. She's quite watched, and I'm standing here waiting to bring you out again."

Scorpius simply walked into the room without a reply and saw Harwalan. He found himself fascinated by the texture of the flesh on the woman's face and, he noticed by his peripheral sight, her fingers. Harwalan, for this woman was certainly the woman who held all of the power within this starship, smiled as he looked her over, and shared the same interest of his own form. He thought he had by far the better position in that deal, because this woman was chilling and beautiful.

Only the flesh of her face and fingers had been exposed to the entropic dangers of the air around them. Malahati Harwalan appeared like an alien lifeform from the very bottom of an ocean. She was white, amazingly white, and seemed like she was smooth enough that she had never been touched in her history. Like a newly created statue, perhaps.

She wore a white suit which puzzled him. Like the walls inside the starship, a light glittered from inside it, the reason or source he couldn't begin to comprehend. Its sleeves and legs stretched down and connected with small silver rings at the tops of black gloves, minus the fingers, and boots with stiletto heels. They were rubber, but the suit appeared as smooth as suede.

"You're the great Scorpius?" Harwalan asked.

Scorpius found that his voice was hoarse. "And you are the Malahati."

Harwalan stood aside and gestured Scorpius and his bodyguard into the chamber on the other side of the door. Sikozu stepped calmly first, and looked around the position. She nodded, satisfied. So the woman was getting into her role.

"My achievements haven't matched yours," Harwalan said. "I have heard the treaty was not to your satisfaction?"

This woman was fast, Scorpius thought. "What might bring you to think that?"

"Peacekeeper news reports," Harwalan replied.

She paused for a time. In the silence, Scorpius analyzed the hall she had brought them into. Data flowed down the walls, the colors resembling that which a person might find when walking behind a waterfall. The lounge's walls looked similar, though with more illustrations of long, grasslike plants. The five chairs and square table within the lounge resembled the plants.

Harwalan walked forward and sat down in a seat. She gestured at the others. "Please, have a seat."

Sikozu sat down first. No negative traits appeared. Scorpius sat on another and leaned forward. The room's temperature was maybe forty on the sereit scale, and he didn't feel quite comfortable without some tension on his coolant suit. The snipers probably standing above them didn't help his nerves, either.

"The Peacekeeper news never talked about me very much," Scorpius said. "Mostly, they were embarrassed that a half-breed had joined them as a researcher."

Harwalan's eyes were wide, like the Asians Scorpius had seen on Crichton's homeworld. Unlike their epicanthic folds, her eyes were shadowed. "Because of that, that made you different from them."

Scorpius smiled. He understood exactly what that meant. He had said the same to John Crichton quite often.

"That was before you learned of John Crichton, and his knowledge." Harwalan gestured with a hand, a horizontal whoosh through the air. "Now, his name is associated with the weapons that you sought to create. Your glory is his."

"The wormhole weapons are evil," Scorpius said.

"They finished the war," Harwalan said softly.

"They could have destroyed the galaxy," Scorpius said. "They should never be created again, especially in war."

"Were they really that powerful?" Harwalan said.

Scorpius stared at his hands and nodded.

"Then that might be what I need," Harwalan said.

Scorpius looked up again. Harwalan smiled and showed her small and piercing teeth.

"You don't realise how interesting you are," Harwalan said.

Scorpius felt young and inexperienced in the presence of the Malahati, and realised how this woman had dominated the fifth sector. "I don't?"

Harwalan snipped a piece of the armrest and began to eat it. He hadn't realised the chairs were edible. "I usually talk to guests with a bureaucratic system. Most people don't get to have a conversation with me, personally. You, Scorpius, are not a common man."

Harwalan paused.

Creating a silence at enigmatic times kept the opponent unbalanced. Scorpius was familiar with that tactic, and it was so much a part of the personality he had built that he often didn't realise he was doing it. Crichton's commentary, a reaction to his situation in the galaxy, had rarely been bothered by it.

Scorpius hadn't often been on the other side of such a thing. Neither Sikozu nor many of his lovers had been immune to the idea, and had often joined right along with it. Silences, and the precision of careful phrases, amused him with people who didn't comprehend, and a game with those who realised what made him work.

This woman, this strange Malahati, realised how much he wanted her, and apparently wanted to play with him. What was her motive? Where did she want this flirtation to lead? If this was strictly business, why was she playing the seductive angle? Scorpius didn't leap at women without learning a little more about them, and obviously he had only seen the tip of Harwalan's mystery.

"What are you thinking?" Harwalan asked.

"I'm wondering why you brought us to your lounge," Sikozu said.

Scorpius stared at her.

Harwalan crossed her hands on her lap. "Could you explain?"

"I don't see why my client interests you so much," Sikozu said. "What is it about Scorpius? His research? His wormhole technology?"

Harwalan smiled. Finally, someone had asked what she wanted. She kept her attention on Sikozu. "Well, I saw he was in the sector. I could obtain the wormhole information through some other source, certainly. No, he, personally, interests me. He might be able to help me with a problem I've been having with a Sebacean."

"Not a Peacekeeper?" Scorpius asked.

"Former Peacekeeper," Harwalan said. "His dossier says little about his career other than the traditional whitewashing, but undoubtedly there's a fascinating tale there. Sebacean soldiers usually stay in the armed forces, am I correct?"

"Once a Peacekeeper, always a Peacekeeper," Scorpius said. "Unless a superior officer wants you as an example. Tell me the name of this man."

"Captain Declan Banikstan. Have you heard of him?"

Scorpius hadn't.

Harwalan shrugged. If she felt disappointment at Scorpius's lack of knowledge, and lack of questioning, she didn't express the emotion. "Captain Banikstan likens himself the policeman of this sector, and he is quite talented at his job."

"I have insider knowledge of the Peacekeepers," Scorpius said.

"Quite," Harwalan said. "You might ascertain an opening."

The Captain's surname worried him. Scorpius's dealings with Baniks had never been pleasant. "Tell me more about this man," Scorpius said. "Tell me about your problems with him."

Harwalan leaned in the edible chair and her thin lips tightened. Her physique changed from that one small expression. She looked restricted and uncomfortable, and slightly older, and he wondered at her actual age. He had guessed that she was in her mid fifties, but now he was not certain.

"My enterprises are not, as you might think, on the up and up. I work underneath the radar in most of the senses. I smuggle hallucinogenic drugs around this sector, and have made a strong financial business for it. I even have a fleet... and personal protectors." Harwalan gestured with a finger toward the ceiling. "They follow me."

"You are powerful," Scorpius said. "And Captain Banikstan?"

"The fifth sector has always been chaotic. I was able to use that for my advantage, and it's the strongest trade sector in Tormented Space. Then Banikstan set up his station." Harwalan bit hard on the root and grabbed a longer stalk from the chair. "We have been at war for maybe a decade now. I'm not sure when we began our war, but I'm becoming very tired of him."

"I need more details," Scorpius said. "Soldiers. Trade. Planets. Space."

"Cultures," Sikozu said. "What species are in this sector?"

Scorpius spun toward Harwalan. "So?"

Harwalan showed the sharp teeth. "Now we're on the real subject here."


End file.
